Air Of Disharmony
by JJ Rust
Summary: My OC Jimmy O'Bannon returns to Salem. Along with trying to convince Americans Voldemort is back, he also has two unwelcome exchange students to deal with. And why are his fellow students suddenly at each other's throats?
1. Chapter 1

Jimmy O'Bannon felt the anxiety grow within him as he approached the plain, wooden building along Boston Harbor. Had things been normal, he would have been excited at the prospect of seeing so many of his friends for the first time in over a year.

But things were far, _far _from normal.

"Are you okay, Jimmy?"

He turned to the woman with coiffed black hair and thick glasses walking next to him.

"Yeah, I'm fine." That had been the fourth time this morning his mother, Ellen O'Bannon, had asked that question. It made him a bit angry. Not at her. More at himself for not being able to mask his true emotions around her.

"You just seem . . . I don't know, like something's wrong."

"Nothing's wrong, Mom." _God, how I wish that were true. _"It's just, you know, this is my last year at Salem. I just . . . got stuff on my mind, you know?"

Mom seemed to buy it, like she did all the other times over the summer he'd lied to her and Dad about being fine.

"Well, here we are." A tall, balding man with a black and gray beard nodded to the rickety door with a CONDEMNED sign on it.

"Yup," O'Bannon simply replied to his father, Douglas.

He hesitated for a split second before reaching out for the door handle. Would his friends believe him about Lord Voldemort's return? Fred and George Weasley had written to him about the smear campaign Minister of Magic Cornelius Fudge and _The Daily Prophet _were doing to Harry Potter in England. A couple of times in July and August similar articles ran in the international section of _The All-Seeing Eye._ The same was true for wizarding newspapers in France and Bulgaria, the other nations who had representatives at Hogwarts last school year.

_Fudge isn't taking any chances_, O'Bannon thought as he opened the door and stepped into darkness. The dumbass Minister of Magic apparently wanted to make sure any international students connected with Harry couldn't champion his side of the story in their native countries.

O'Bannon felt he had an uphill battle facing him at the Salem Witches Institute.

The sunlight returned. He and his parents stood on a pier lined with old-fashioned light poles. Sitting in the water was a large, slender, wooden ship with masts of blue and silver. The center mast displayed the outline of an owl's face with a red letter "S" in the middle. Underneath it were words in fancy script.

SALEM WITCHES INSTITUTE. EST. 1695.

The pier was crowded with witches and wizards, young and old, and a smattering of Muggles. He pushed the trolley containing his luggage toward the _Salem Schooner, _the smell of salt water in the air.

"Jimmy!"

He turned to see a girl with olive skin and dark hair hurry over to him.

"Ursa!"

"It's so good to see you again." Ursa Oberlin hugged him. "Merlin's beard, we all missed you last year."

"Hey, I missed you guys, too."

"So how was Hogwarts?" she asked.

"It was . . . something, that's for sure."

Ursa bit her lip. "Um, Jimmy. I've been seeing some stuff in _The All-Seeing Eye. _What's all this about Harry Potter making up -"

"Hey, it's a long story, Ursa." The words couldn't tumble out of O'Bannon's mouth fast enough. But there was no way he could let Ursa finish her sentence with his parents around. "I'll tell you all about it once we're aboard the schooner."

She curled her lips in a pout. "Okay. But I'm gonna hold you to that."

"Sure. No prob. I'll see you onboard."

Ursa flashed him a less-than-enthusiastic smile and strode across the wooden planks of Pier SWI to rejoin a small knot of girls next to a lamp post.

O'Bannon tightened his grip on the handles of the trolley and continued toward the _Salem Schooner_.

"Is there some reason you brushed off your friend like that?" Mom asked.

"I'm not brushing her off, Mom. I just gotta get to the schooner. The thing's leaving soon."

"It doesn't mean you have to be rude to people," She told him. "And why did she want to ask you about your friend Harry Potter?"

"I told you. He's famous in the Wizarding World. Especially after he was in that Tri-Wizard Tournament. I mean, that's like the Super Bowl and Stanley Cup combined for this world."

Mom fixed a hard gaze at him. O'Bannon tried not to swallow, to not give her any more fuel for her suspicions. Hell, she'd been suspicious of him all summer. What the hell did he do to cause that? Hadn't he'd been careful whenever he talked about Hogwarts around his parents? He only brought up the positive experiences; forming the Triad hockey team, the Yule Ball, the Tri-Wizard Tournament . . .

At least, the first two tasks. He didn't say a damn thing about the third task. He didn't tell them about seeing the lifeless body of Cedric Diggory on the Quidditch field. And he certainly didn't utter a single word about the person, the thing, that killed the Hufflepuff boy.

Lord Voldemort.

"If it's so exciting, why not tell your friends about it?"

O'Bannon's jaw clenched as he fought down his mounting irritation. Why the hell couldn't Mom just let it drop? "There's a lot to talk about, and I'd rather do it on the schooner."

Mom opened her mouth to say something else, but Dad put a hand on her shoulder. "Jimmy's right, hon. The ship's leaving soon. We better let him get aboard."

_Thank you, Dad._

He pushed his trolley across the pier, weaving past several students and their relatives. One of the wheels caught a groove in the wood, causing his trunks to rattle, along with the cage containing his gold and black Crested Owl, Espo. The bird twittered. He continued on.

"Excuse me," he called out to a pair of small boys in front of him. They just gawked at him, not moving.

"Um, could you move, please?" O'Bannon waved his hand in front of him.

The stunned-looking boys moved aside. O'Bannon rolled the trolley past them just as they turned their gazes to the other witches and wizards around them.

_Gotta be First Years. Definitely Muggle-born._ O'Bannon shook his head, wondering if he looked the same way his first time on Pier SWI.

_Probably._ Witches and wizards had always been make believe to him, until the day Headmistress Esmeralda came to his house and showed him otherwise.

Cedric Diggory flashed through his mind again, along with the name Lord Voldemort.

Moments like this, he wished witches and wizards were just make believe.

"Jimmy! Hey, Jimmy!"

A short, gangly boy with dark hair bounded over to him.

"Jimmy! Welcome back!"

"Hey, Isaac." O'Bannon extended his hand, which Isaac Pinder shook vigorously.

"Glad to see you back. We all missed you. The hockey team sucked without you."

O'Bannon felt some of his tension melt from his lean, athletic frame. He thanked God Isaac wanted to talk about hockey instead of Harry and You-Know-Who.

"C'mon," he replied. "I'm sure they weren't that bad."

"Not as good as when you're there. Oh, when are tryouts?"

"Isaac, we haven't even gotten to Salem yet. Don't worry. When I get a date, I'll post it."

"Great. I've been practicing all summer. This is the year I make the team. You watch."

O'Bannon forced a smile and nodded. Isaac had been saying that for the past two years. Unfortunately, he didn't have even a quarter of the talent of his older brother Paul, who still held the single season and career scoring records for the Blazenrowe Hall hockey team.

"Well, good luck."

"Okay. Thanks. See you later." Isaac started to turn, then suddenly whirled back around. "Oh. I almost forgot. Everyone's dying to know what happened over in England. With the Tri-Wizard Tournament, you know. And all the stuff with Harry Potter -"

"Yeah, look, I'll tell you later." The words shot out of O'Bannon's mouth at a machine gun pace. "Long story, you know. And we gotta get on the schooner."

"Oh, um, okay."

Looking crestfallen, Isaac turned back to his trolley and pushed it toward the ship.

"Jimmy?"

O'Bannon closed his eyes and softly groaned. Slowly, he turned around. Mom had developed an even harder gaze.

"You really need to stop doing that. It's rude."

"Actually, what I need to do is get on the schooner." He clenched his teeth the moment after he said it. Now he really sounded like he was trying to hide something.

He pushed his trolley as quickly as possible, not giving Mom a chance to respond.

O'Bannon frowned. He hated lying to his parents, but better they remain ignorant about this part of the Wizarding World than fretting every minute of every day that You-Know-Who or one of his cronies would cast a Constricting Spell and crush the life out of him.

He picked up the pace as he approached the ship, smiling as he did. Much as he missed his friends at Hogwarts, he felt glad to be returning to Salem. Hanging with Jared Diaz, Rosa Infante and Artimus Rand again, rejoining his dorm's hockey team, as captain no less, and having History of Magic with Miss Venatici, unarguably the hottest teacher in school.

"Well look who finally made it," a short muscular Hispanic boy with a wild tangle of black hair called out near the gangplank connected to the _Salem Schooner._

The girl next to him smiled. She was a bit taller than the boy with thick black hair down to her shoulders, smooth, tanned features, a slender figure, and earrings that reminded O'Bannon of rock candy.

"For a second we thought you decided to skip town and go back to Hogwarts," said Rosa Infante.

She dashed over to O'Bannon and gave him a hug and a peck on the cheek. Jared Diaz followed and tapped knuckles with him. The cousins then greeted O'Bannon's parents.

After a minute of small talk, O'Bannon said, "Well, the schooner's gonna leave soon. We better get going."

He hugged Dad, and did the same to Mom. She planted a kiss on his cheek and squeezed him tight.

"You be careful, okay?"

"Always."

"And if anything's wrong, let us know, okay? We may not be wizards, but we're still your parents, and you can come to us with anything."

O'Bannon bit his lip. He so wished that was possible. Unfortunately, when it came to Harry's plight and You-Know-Who's return, his parents couldn't help him one bit.

"Everything's fine, Mom. Don't worry. I'll see you for Thanksgiving, okay?"

For a moment, he didn't think his mother would let go of him. Finally, reluctantly, he sensed, she released him. O'Bannon smiled and pushed his trolley toward the _Salem Schooner._

"I hope they get out of here before anyone else metions Harry Potter around them." O'Bannon glanced over his shoulder at his parents.

"You still didn't tell them?"

He turned to Jared. "What the hell am I supposed to say? Mom, Dad. Guess what? The Wizarding World's version of Adolf Hitler just came back from the dead, and now there's gonna be a big wizarding war. I say that, they'll chuck my wand into the Charles River and we'll all move to someplace like Montana."

"Yeah . . ." Rosa glanced around before continuing, keeping her voice low. "Well me and Jared have been getting grilled since we got here. Everyone's asking us if you think Harry Potter really lost his marbles."

"So what did you tell them?"

"Just what you told us when you got back from England. That you believe Harry when he said You-Know-Who's back and he was the one who killed that Diggory guy."

"So what do they think?"

The corners of Jared's mouth twisted. "Most of them are buying what they read in _The All-Seeing Eye."_

O'Bannon grunted. "Which they're just regurgitating from _The Daily Prophet, _who are just regurgitating everything the Minister of Magic over there says." He scowled and added, "That dumbass."

The three stopped as a line formed to board the _Salem Schooner._ All around them parents and other relatives hugged and kissed students good-bye. The most suffocating hugs came from the parents of the First Year Muggle-borns. Some of the kids wanted to wrestle away from their parents' grasp and rush aboard the schooner. Others looked as though they didn't want to let go of their mothers and fathers.

All the Muggle parents appeared nervous to the point of trembling.

O'Bannon lowered his eyes. _Nervous._ Those parents would be bloody terrified if they knew what they were sending their kids into. He thought back to his very first History of Magic class, which dealt solely with Lord Voldemort and all the terrible things he did during the Big War.

It gave him nightmares for a week. Him, Rosa, Jared and every other First Year. O'Bannon realized why no witch or wizard spoke the name Voldemort.

And now he was back, and these Muggle-born Firsties would enter a Wizarding World with a dark storm on the horizon.

He chewed on his lip. God, how he wanted to yell at them to leave. To forget about Wizarding World, to be ignorant of the name Lord Voldemort and the atrocities he committed. They'd be better off in Muggle schools, where their biggest worries would be passing their driver's test and getting a date for the prom.

O'Bannon frowned. Deep down he knew that wouldn't save them. Voldemort killed plenty of Muggles in the Big War. He'd probably do the same in the upcoming one. And if he won . . . well, O'Bannon doubted the son-of-a-bitch would be content with just ruling the Wizarding World.

"Take your luggage Sirs, and Madam," he heard a gravelly voice.

O'Bannon looked down. A servant elf in a small white sailor's suit stood next to his trunk.

"Yeah, sure."

The elf straightened himself up and held out his hand. O'Bannon started to give him a curious look, then shook his head. After his forays into the Hogwarts kitchen with Fred, George and Lee Jordan, he'd grown so used to English house elves he nearly forgot how to deal with American servant elves.

O'Bannon dug into one of the pockets of his robes, as did Rosa and Jared. They each produced a couple jade pieces and dropped them into the elf's hand.

The elf examined his tip with its huge eyes. It then canted its brown, oversized head and growled.

"Oh, Sirs and Madam are _too_ generous to Pulpin." The elf didn't even look at them as he spoke.

Pocketing the jade pieces, Pulpin raised his index finger. Trunks and owl cages floated through the air and followed the elf onto the _Salem Schooner._

O'Bannon shook his head. "You know, I always thought it was bullcrap that the Brits treat their house elves almost like slaves. But at least they're more pleasant to be around than our servant elves."

Jared chuckled. "It's like my dad says. 'You could tip a servant elf with your entire bank account, and he'd still think it wasn't enough.'"

O'Bannon grinned as the line started to move. His grin widened as they approached a chubby old man with a thick gray beard and a black pirate hat. He smiled as they approached, revealing a mouth of missing teeth. The few that remained were a dark shade of yellow.

"Rosa, Jared . . . ah, Jimmy O'Bannon. Welcome back, son."

"Thanks, Skipper." He extended a hand, which Cepheus Oliveira, captain of the _Salem Schooner, _took in a vice-like grip and shook heartily.

"Did you have a good time in England?"

O'Bannon sighed, fighting a losing battle to maintain his smile. "It was good."

"Glad to hear it. It's nice to have you back on the schooner. I even had one of the servant elves set aside your usual cabin for you." Cepheus pulled a folded piece of parchment from under his weathered peacoat and unfurled it. It revealed a diagram of the _Salem Schooner's_ interior, with the names of students undulating in the cabins they occupied.

"Thanks, Skipper." Jared threw him a salute. "You're awesome."

"Oh please. You've been some of my most favorite passengers in the thirty odd years I've been on this old girl." Cepheus' brow furrowed. His head whipped left, then right. "Say, where's Artimus at?"

"Oh, I saw him over by the harbor master's shack." Jared nodded back down the pier. "His dad's been lecturing him for the last ten minutes."

Cepheus grunted. "Well, after having all four Rand boys sailing on this old girl, I can pretty much guess what Ulysses is telling his youngest."

"Yeah." Rosa's nose crinkled. "'Do you really want to graduate with grades lower than all your brothers? Do you want to be known as the least successful Rand in the history of this family? Blah, blah, blah.'"

O'Bannon stared back at the pier, trying catch a glimpse of Artimus through the crowd of wizards and witches. Rosa's comments stroked embers of anger inside him. While he loved Rosa's and Jared's parents, he'd never warmed up to Ulysses Rand. The man fostered nothing but competition among his four sons, always pushing them to outdo each other. It was a strategy that did more harm than good to Artimus, who already had a youngest sibling complex anyway. He noticed the same thing with Ron Weasley back at Hogwarts, constantly living in the shadows of brothers who were smarter, more successful and more popular than him.

It made O'Bannon grateful to be an only child.

"Well, when he gets here, I'll tell him you're in your usual cabin."

"Thanks, Skipper." Rosa smiled at him.

The three started for the gangplank when Cepheus called out.

"Oh! I almost forgot. Jimmy, you'll love this. We actually have a couple exchange students from Hogwarts on board."

O'Bannon's eyes lit up. Excitement pulsated through his veins. "No way."

"Yup. Cabin . . ." Cepheus consulted the schooner's diagram. "Two-Oh-Three. Why don't you pop in and say hi?"

"You better believe I will. Thanks."

O'Bannon darted up the gangplank, Rosa and Jared hot on his heels. He threw open the nearest hatch and descended the stairs.

"I can't believe this. We're gonna have some Hogwarts kids with us. This is too cool."

"Any idea who they might be?"

O'Bannon looked back at Rosa as she stepped onto the second deck. "I don't know. I didn't get to know everyone there." His face scrunched up. "Weird. You'd think if it was friends of mine they would have owled me and let me know they were coming."

"Maybe they wanted to surprise you," Rosa offered.

Jared rubbed his hands together. "I hope their girls."

"Why? So they can laugh in your face when you ask them out?"

Jared gave his cousin a sharp, dismissive wave, then turned back to O'Bannon. "Maybe it's those Indian twins you told me about. What's their names?"

"The Patils. Parvati and Padma."

"Yeah. Or maybe it's that Angelina Johnson. I about drooled on your team photo when you pointed her out to me."

"Or maybe it's a couple hot guys." Rosa waggled her thin eyebrows. "I'm in the market for a new boyfriend."

Jared snorted. "You're always in the market for a new boyfriend."

Rosa slapped him upside the head. Jared winced as she went on.

"Maybe it's your buddies Fred and George. They sound like they'd be a blast to hang with."

"Ha!" O'Bannon turned halfway around to face Rosa. "You don't know the half of it."

He picked up his pace as he neared Cabin 203. The sliding door was open. He stopped and peered inside.

There were two girls, both blond. The one closest to him had her hair braided up. The other let hers fall to her shoulders. Both of them had their backs to him, staring out the porthole.

O'Bannon smiled and turned back to his friends.

"Sorry, Rosa," he whispered. "You're SOL."

He beamed at Jared and high-fived him.

"Ladies!" Jared practically jumped into the cabin. Both girls jerked in surprise and whipped around in their seats.

"Allow me to introduce ourselves. I'm Jared Diaz, and this is my good friend, Jimmy O'Bannon. On behalf of the Salem Witches Institute's Greeting Committee, I bid you welcome to our fine institution."

"Oh please," Rosa muttered behind him.

O'Bannon ignored her. "So. How would you like to come up on deck with us? We might catch a glimpse of some . . ."

His voice trailed off when he noticed the patches on both girls' robes. An electric shock ripped through his body. His mouth closed tight. He drew a slow breath and narrowed his eyes.

"Yo, Jimmy. You okay, man?"

O'Bannon didn't answer Jared. He continued to focus on the patches, which showed a serpent amidst the backdrop of green and silver.

_No friggin' way._

Both girls were Slytherins.

_**TO BE CONTINUED**_


	2. Chapter 2

"I know quite well who you are." The girl with braided hair stood. She was nearly O'Bannon's height of 5'10 with a clear complexion that radiated the air of superiority all Slytherins walked around with.

"I attended the hockey game between your . . . _friends_ and my House." A smirk crossed the girl's lips. "I especially loved when Urquhart broke your ankle."

O'Bannon grunted. "You know what I loved about that game? The fact we kicked your sorry asses."

The girl's eyes narrowed. O'Bannon could picture daggers shooting from them and piercing his heart.

"So." O'Bannon folded his arms. "What brings you to my school . . . um, what did you say your name was?"

"I didn't. It's Serinta Sejant, if you must know. And this is Cecelia Malfoy." She nodded to the girl behind her, who was still sitting down.

O'Bannon swallowed a breath. His face contorting with disdain, he peered around Serinta. Cecilia Malfoy seemed content to stare at her intertwined fingers.

"I didn't know the smarmy little prick had a sister."

"Cousin, actually." Cecilia's head snapped up, her eyes narrowed.

"And to answer your question . . ." Serinta mirrored O'Bannon's contemptuous expression. "We're here to do what all foreign exchange students do. Learn the culture of another country."

"When the hell did you Slytherins start caring about other people's culture?"

"You can believe what you like. Honestly, it doesn't matter to me. Now if you'd remove yourself from my compartment. Being this close to a Mudblood makes me ill."

O'Bannon's face tightened in anger. He clenched his fists. Oh, if Serinta wasn't a girl . . .

Rosa pushed past him and pointed her finger inches from Serinta's face. "I'd zip those lips of yours before I rip them off, you damn bigot."

"Try it and it will be the last thing you ever do." Serinta's voice matched the icy stare she fixed on Rosa.

Rosa took another step toward the Slytherin when Jared grabbed hold of her arm. "Chill out, cuz. Let's not get in trouble before we even leave the dock. Besides, she ain't worth it."

Serinta and Rosa continued to glare at one another. Finally, with an unlady-like snort, Rosa backed into the corridor. O'Bannon and Jared joined her moments later.

"I hope we don't cross paths again," said Serinta, while Cecilia continued to examine her folded hands.

"Trust me. I'll make it a point to avoid you."

With a parting scowl, O'Bannon and his friends headed down the corridor.

"Well, now I can see why you hate those Slytherins so much." Jared looked back in the direction of Serinta's and Cecilia's cabin. "That Serinta chick was a total snot."

"She's a friggin' racist is what she is," Rosa spat. "She didn't think twice about using . . . that word."

"Hey. For Slytherins calling people like me Mudblood comes as natural as breathing."

Rosa shook her head, her rock candy-shaped earrings swaying. "I can't believe Headmistress Esmeralda would let someone like that into Salem. Or that Headmaster Dumbledore would send us someone like that."

O'Bannon nodded quietly. He remembered when he went through the process of qualifying for the exchange program to Europe. The Salem faculty didn't just consider grades, but the person's character as well. An exchange student not only represented their school, but their entire country as well. No school would want to send someone overseas who'd embarrass them. It made him wonder why Headmaster Dumbledore would consent to let a raging bitch like Serinta Sejant represent Hogwarts.

_Unless someone went behind his back to do it._

They reached the staircase at the end of their corridor. O'Bannon started to ascend when a female voice called out from the cabin to his left.

"Jimmy!"

A short girl with long brown hair and bangs covering her forehead darted out of the cabin.

"Hey, Rana."

Rana Rollingsworth threw her arms around him in a great big hug and gave him a peck on the cheek. O'Bannon held his breath for a moment.

"Um . . . hey. Good to see you, too."

The Seeker for the Blazenrowe Hall Quidditch team released O'Bannon. She continued staring at him with a huge, beautiful smile. "I missed you last year. I'm so happy you're back."

"Thanks. Good to be back, and good to see you, too." He'd known Rana since First Year, and while always nice, he never remembered her being so . . . affectionate toward him. Not that he minded.

Rana briefly waved and said hello to Rosa and Jared, then turned back to O'Bannon. "You have to tell me all about England. It must have been awesome being at Hogwarts. Merlin's Beard, you are so lucky."

"Yeah, I had some good times there. Met some real cool people, formed a hockey team over there. I enjoyed the whole thing . . . well, except what happened at the end of the Tri-Wizard Tournament."

Rana chewed on her lip and lowered her eyes for a moment. "Yeah. That boy who died. That must have been horrible."

"You have no idea." A shiver went up O'Bannon's spine as he pictured Diggory's lifeless body.

"Wha . . . What about the stuff about You-Know-Who? They say Harry Potter's making it up. Is it true?"

"Harry's not making up it. He says You-Know-Who came back and killed Cedric Diggory."

"But what about all those stories in _The All-Seeing Eye?"_

"It's bullcrap. You-Know-Who's back. Harry said so, and Headmaster Dumbledore and my buds Fred and George stand by him. That's good enough for me. I couldn't care less what _The All-Seeing Eye_ or the _Daily Prophet _says."

Rana closed her eyes and sighed. O'Bannon noticed her tremble slightly.

Moments later, she reopened her eyes and nodded. "I believe you, Jimmy."

A bolt of pure energy shot through him. O'Bannon didn't try to stop the huge smile spreading across his face. Maybe convincing people about Voldemort's return wouldn't be as hard as he thought.

"Besides," Rana continued. "I agree with my folks. _The All-Seeing Eye_ isn't worth lining an owl cage with. Especially after they printed all those lies about Mom and Dad ordering their players to use illegal hexes on other Quidditch teams."

"Thanks, Rana."

A bell clanged throughout the corridor, followed by Cepheus' magically amplified voice.

"_SALEM SCHOONER_ READY TO DEPART. ALL STUDENTS PLEASE GO TO YOUR CABINS."

Rana frowned briefly, then flashed O'Bannon a smile. "I'll see you later, Jimmy."

"Sure."

She bounced on the balls of her feet for a moment, then hugged him again before turning to leave. O'Bannon, Rosa and Jared climbed the steps to the first deck and proceeded down the corridor, occasionally sidestepping students headed to their cabins.

"Damn, man. She seriously wants to jump your bones."

"What!" O'Bannon whirled around to face Jared.

His friend shrugged. "Hey. It looked pretty obvious to me. I guess she's finally over Darius Forten."

O'Bannon nodded. Rana and her old boyfriend had been together for two years, until she caught him sucking face with Ivy Chatham, aka "The Salem Skank," in the Blazenrowe Hall trophy room.

"Holy crap," Jared blurted. "If you got a shot, you gotta go for it. Her parents own the Boston Bandits. You start going out with her, we can get into all their games for free. Who knows. Maybe her parents can hook us all up with tickets to the next Quidditch World Cup."

O'Bannon's head bobbed from side-to-side. He did like that idea. He'd always gotten along with Rana, plus she was really hot. Besides, he had to start moving on from Mireet Miradeaux. With him back at Salem and her back at Beauxbatons in France, what were the chances they'd ever see one another again?

O'Bannon slowed when he spotted a burly, dark-haired young man with a goatee.

"Yo, Marcel! How's it hangin'?"

Marcel Dubuque turned to him. His face sagged.

"Jimmy," he mumbled before going into his cabin and slamming the door shut.

A quizzical look formed on his face. "What crawled up his ass and died?"

Jared glanced at Marcel's cabin as they passed by. "He's pissed because he got passed over for captain of the hockey team in favor of you."

"Yeah," Rosa chimed in. "He didn't think you should have gotten the "C" since you were in England all last year."

"Where I did create a hockey team from scratch, with witches and wizards who knew jack about the game. That should count for something."

O'Bannon groaned. He did not need this crap before he even called his first tryout. Marcel was probably the best defenseman on Blazenrowe. He hoped the French-Canadian would deal with it and do what was best for the team.

"Well what do you know? Jimbo's back."

A tall, lean boy with thick wavy blond hair turned and stuck out his hand.

"Greg. How're ya doing?" He shook hands with Gregory Lancemore, Keeper and captain of the Blazenrowe Quidditch team.

"Missed having you around the dorm last year. So how was Hogwarts?"

"It was a hell of an experience . . . both good and bad, you know."

"Yeah, I do. Hey, you gotta tell me all about it. But right now . . ." He lowered his voice and nodded to the cabin next to him. "I'm kind of busy."

O'Bannon peeked inside to find two smiling, attractive girls, one blond, one a redhead.

He couldn't help but smile. Gregory Lancemore was Salem's resident ladies man.

"Good luck, man." O'Bannon slapped him on the shoulder. "See you later."

"You got it. Hey, Jared . . . Rosa."

Rosa gave him a barely perceptible nod. She had been one of the numerous girls at Salem to fall under Gregory's charms, though that only lasted a few months.

When they reached their cabin they found a tall boy with an angular face and close cropped brown hair in one of the seats.

"Guys! You're here!" Artimus Rand's face lit up. Had he been a dog, O'Bannon was sure Rand's tail would be wagging.

He sat down next to Artimus, while Jared and Rosa took the seats across from them.

"So everything go well with your old man?" asked Jared.

"Fine," Artimus muttered, his tone indicating he didn't want to discuss it further.

_He probably got a worse lecture than usual, being this is our last year here._

O'Bannon jerked slightly in his seat as the _Salem Schooner_ slipped from its dock and headed into Boston Harbor. He and the others stared out the porthole at the waving relatives crowding the pier. Again he prayed none of them mentioned Harry Potter or You-Know-Who around his parents.

"So what do you think's up with those Slytherins?" Jared asked.

Artimus turned to O'Bannon with a quizzical look. "Slytherins? What about Slytherins?"

O'Bannon ran down their encounter with Serinta Sejant and Cecelia Malfoy. Artimus' jaw dropped.

"Slytherins, going to Salem? Oh man, this is bad."

"Yeah, tell me about it."

"No, seriously. I mean, pretty much every dark wizard in British history has come out of Slytherin House. My Dad's even had a few business dealings with them. He hates working with them. They're real shady, underhanded. What do you think they're up to?"

O'Bannon shook his head. "Beats me. Obviously nothing good."

"Ashame, too." Jared frowned. "They weren't bad looking. Especially that Malfoy girl. I couldn't believe how quiet she was, especially considering what you said her cousin Draco's like."

Rosa turned to him. "You know what they say. Sometimes it's the quiet ones you really have to watch out for."

Jared bobbed his head from side-to-side. "Or, maybe she didn't like being around that Serinta chick either. Who knows, maybe she's the more decent of the two."

"Dude, have you been smoking toadstools? They don't put decent people in Slytherin."

Jared held up his hands. "Yo, relax, Jimmy. It's just a thought. Besides, didn't you tell me there were a couple Gryffindors who were a-holes?"

"Yeah, Cormac McLaggen fit that bill."

"Well then, it seems reasonable to assume that if a couple a-holes got sorted into Gryffindor, then a couple of decent people could get sorted into Slytherin."

"Yeah, maybe." But the next decent Slytherin O'Bannon came across would be the first.

Rosa decided to get everyone's minds off You-Know-Who and the Slytherin girls when she suggested they compare their class schedules. O'Bannon smiled when he saw they had four classes together . . . History of Magic, Potions, Theoretical Magic and Seventh Year Seminar.

"Well I already got my seminar subject picked out," Jared announced. "Evidence showing that cyclopses still exist. How about you, Art?"

"I don't know." Artimus shrugged. "Maybe something on business and government."

"Borrrr-ing. Rosa, how about you?"

"It's gonna be something to do with aurors, I know that much. What about you, Jimmy?"

"It's a toss-up. Either how Muggle-borns have impacted the Wizarding World or something about Quidditch in the U.S."

"Pick Quidditch," said Jared. "That's a lot more fun."

O'Bannon gave him a half-hearted nod. He'd been leaning a bit more to the Muggle-born one, considering the attitudes quite a few purebloods had toward people like him.

As the schooner neared Deer Island, O'Bannon, Rosa, Jared and Artimus headed up to the top deck. A cool, salt tinged sea breeze greeted them. Several other students lined the railing, gazing out at the rolling waves, the islands dotting Boston Harbor, and the airliners taking off and landing at Logan International.

"I wonder how the Muggles get those things to fly," said a girl whom O'Bannon guessed to be a Second or Third Year.

Rosa sighed and rested her elbows on the railing, the wind whipping around her hair.

"I can't believe this is the last time we're going to make this trip."

"Yeah. Graduation year." Jared joined his cousin at the railing. "It's weird. Part of me's looking forward to it, but another part . . ."

O'Bannon chewed on his lower lip as a pair of jet skis darted by. One of the drivers, a very fit, attractive woman with her wet dark hair matted to her head and shoulders, waved to the _Salem Schooner._ With all the charms surrounding this ship the Muggle would think she was waving at a whale watching boat or a luxury yacht or a regular sailboat, depending on Cepheus' inclination today.

_Graduation. _Funny how little he had thought about it over the past few months. Of course he had a lot of other things on his mind than what to do after graduation.

_Of course, if You-Know-Who wins, whatever future plans I have won't mean jack._

"Hey, Jimmy." Jared nudged him in the ribs. "Look who's coming."

He followed Jared's gaze across the deck. A shiver went through him when he saw Rana Rollingsworth step away from a small knot of girls and start toward him.

"Yeah. Look who's coming."

O'Bannon furrowed his brow. Rosa's tone didn't sound as jubilant as her cousin's.

From the opposite side of the deck he watched a dozen boys and girls walking toward him. Some he recognized. Darius Forten, Ursa Oberlin, Isaac Pinder and Ivy Chatham. In the lead was a roundish young man with a puffed up face and black hair. His authoritative stride and look of arrogance would have made him a perfect fit with the Slytherins.

"Jimmy O'Bannon. Finally back at Salem."

"No, I'm actually a Doppelganger Spell. The real Jimmy's back at Hogwarts."

Merak Mather frowned slightly at the joke. "Yes, Hogwarts. A lot of interesting things happened while you were over there. Like the Tri-Wizard Tournament."

O'Bannon exhaled. Hinkey hairs went up on the back of his neck as he kept his eyes locked on Merak.

"I wouldn't call watching a friend port key back with the body of another kid interesting."

Merak took a step toward him. "Well, we're all curious, Jimmy. Because _The All-Seeing Eye_ says that Harry Potter is making up all these stories about You-Know-Who returning. Then when we ask your friends about it . . ." His eyes darted from Jared to Rosa to Artimus. "They say it's true. You were there. What say you about it?"

"It is true." O'Bannon didn't hesitate in his response. "You-Know-Who is back."

Isaac Pinder visibly shuddered. So did another young boy he didn't recognize. Ursa Oberlin's Adam's apple bobbed up and down.

"I don't care what you've read in the _Eye._ You-Know-Who came back, killed Cedric Diggory, and almost killed Harry. Now he's building up an army to start a second war."

"Did you actually see You-Know-Who?"

"If I did, I don't think I'd be standing here right now."

Merak chuckled and shook his head. "Then if you didn't see him, how can you go around saying he's back?"

"Because Harry said so."

"Oh, I see." Merak's tone got a bit sharper. "So you're going to take the word of a fifteen-year-old boy over that of _The All-Seeing Eye_ and the British Ministry of Magic?"

"This fifteen-year-old boy? Yeah, I definitely take his word for it."

The corner of Merak's nose twitched. "You know, O'Bannon. My father happens to be good friends with the Minister of Magic over there. We were even invited to sit in his private box at the Quidditch World Cup last year. The Minister personally told my father that Harry Potter is nothing more than an unstable boy who would do anything for attention. Including making up stories about the return of the most evil wizard in history."

O'Bannon snorted and took a big step closer to Merak. He craned his neck to look eyeball-to-eyeball with the taller boy. "Well in my opinion, Cornelius Fudge is a dumbass, who's more concerned about hanging on to his job than actually fighting You-Know-Who."

"There is no You-Know-Who to fight!" Merak's face reddened. His nose was mere inches from O'Bannon's. "Do you think it's funny going around spreading the lies of a snot-nosed limey kid? I lost my grandmother, an uncle and a sister in the war. And my father had a hand blown off by a Death Eater at the Battle of Smithjohnny Bridge. So I am not going to stand by and let you make light of one of the darkest periods of wizarding history."

"And I'm not gonna stand around and let people keep their heads buried in the sand while that s.o.b. gets ready for a second war."

Merak scowled and shook his head. "I wouldn't expect _your kind_ to understand."

"What the hell's that supposed to mean?" O'Bannon sensed Jared move next to him.

"A Muggle-born. You have no clue how horrific that war was. To you it's nothing but words in your History of Magic book. But for a lot of us it's part of our lives. Do you know how many students at Salem had relatives die during the war? What were your relatives doing during that time? Sitting in their little Muggle homes, watching their TVOs and eating _pee-zizz?"_

O'Bannon's shoulders rose and fell with angry breaths. "Trust me. I have a clue. I got it three months ago when I saw Cedric Diggory lying dead on the Quidditch pitch at Hogwarts!"

"You-Know-Who did not kill Cedric Diggory!" Spittle hung from the middle of Merak's lower lip.

"Right. I guess he just decided to use a Killing Curse on himself."

Seething, Merak backed away, aiming a finger at O'Bannon. "You better stop talking about this stuff if you know what's good for you."

"Don't even try to threaten me," O'Bannon scoffed.

"You keep supporting that Potter kid's lies, you may find it hard to get a good job after you graduate. My father has connections all over this country."

"Well whoopty-freakin'-do."

Merak glared at Rosa and Jared. "I'd give you two the same advice, but it'd be pointless. If this . . . Muggle-born told you to run into a dragon's nest and steal an egg, you'd do it."

Jared laughed. "We did that when we were nine."

"And boy did we get yelled at when we came home with that egg," Rosa added.

He glared at the cousins, then turned to Artimus. "Rand, you're the only smart one of the bunch. If you don't want to embarrass your family's name, you'd do well to go along with your father."

Artimus didn't respond. He simply lowered his head.

Merak whirled around with great flourish and stormed off. Several other students followed. O'Bannon noticed Ivy Chatham and Darius Forten shake their heads before they left.

Only Isaac Pinder remained. The small boy looked over his shoulder. When the others were out of earshot, he walked up to O'Bannon and said in a low voice. "I believe you."

He then darted off.

O'Bannon tried to feel elated. But to only have two others outside Rosa, Jared and Artimus believe him wasn't much to get excited about.

Especially if most of the school felt the same way as Merak Mather.

"Art." Rosa stepped over to Artimus. "What did he mean about your father?"

Artimus sighed and turned around, resting his arms on the railing. Several seconds passed before he spoke. "My father thinks Harry Potter's lying. He knows Cornelius Fudge, too, from when he was the U.S. Wizarding ambassador to Britain. Fudge told him all that fame at a young age pushed Potter over the edge."

"That's a load of crap," Jared growled.

"Not only that, but Fudge and my father talked about you too."

O'Bannon's face scrunched up in surprise. "What the hell does Fudge care about me for?"

"It's because of the hockey game you had between the Triad and the Slytherins. That made big news over there. Fudge knows that you became good friends with Fred and George Weasley, and they're good friends with Harry Potter. Fudge is afraid . . . well, he's afraid you might be working with Potter and Headmaster Dumbledore to drum up opposition to him in this country."

"You gotta be kidding me." Okay, Dumbledore _did_ want him to drum up opposition in this country. Opposition to You-Know-Who, that is.

Artimus dropped his head to his chest. "Anyway, just before I got on the schooner, my father said it would be best if I . . . limited my contact with you . . . all of you."

O'Bannon stuffed his hands into the pockets of his jeans and scowled. They hadn't even reached Salem, and already his seventh and final year was starting to suck.

_**TO BE CONTINUED**_


	3. Chapter 3

"Guys! Hey, guys!"

Jimmy O'Bannon was about to open the double front doors of Blazenrowe Hall when he heard Artimus' voice behind him. He turned, along with Jared and Rosa, and saw the tall boy hurrying down the corridor, his shoes banging against the wooden floorboards.

"Quiet down!" the portrait of a fat old wizard with a pointed hat bellowed at him. "It's too early in the morning for such a ruckus."

"Sorry," Artimus replied without slowing his pace.

"Where the heck have you been?" Rosa asked. "We were just about to go to breakfast without you."

"Sorry about that. I was just working on something . . . for Jimmy."

"Really?" O'Bannon felt his face crinkle in surprise. "What?"

"This." Artimus handed him a piece of parchment.

He scanned it. **THE TALLY SHEET** was written on the top in large, fancy script. A line ran through the center with the word **BELIEVERS** on one side and **NON-BELIEVERS **on the other.

"That way you can keep track of how many people here are on your side or aren't."

As much as he appreciated Artimus' efforts, O'Bannon frowned when he scanned the columns. 8 in the Believers column, 29 in the Non-Believers.

Artimus tapped the parchment. "And those numbers will change the moment any of us find out who believes you and who doesn't."

"Maybe we should do some work to get this number up." Jared pointed to the Believers column.

"Yeah." O'Bannon sighed. If the incident between him and Merak yesterday on the _Salem Schooner_ was any indication, that wouldn't be an easy task.

"Thanks, man." He nodded to Artimus. A smile flashed across the taller boy's face.

O'Bannon threw open the doors. Raindrops pattered against the wooden overhang above the front doors. The four students cast Bubble-Head Charms over themselves and stepped out into the rain. O'Bannon paused for a second to take in the campus.

Elm trees and brightly colored flowerbeds lined a dirt path leading away from Blazenrowe Hall. It split off into other paths leading to large, colonial style houses of various colors. A mist hovered over the large lake to his right.

O'Bannon headed toward the path, followed by the others.

"Hey, Art," Jared said. "I thought your old man didn't want you to have anything to do with us malcontents."

"He doesn't. But, I mean . . . he's back in Plymouth, right? So . . . what he doesn't know . . . won't hurt him."

Artimus' voice trailed off on those last few words. He then drew a deep breath. "But, it may be a good idea not to spread it around that I came up with that list. Okay? Please?"

O'Bannon groaned to himself. If Art was gonna stand by him, he needed to jump in with both feet or none at all. Trying to placate both sides wouldn't cut it, not when it came to something as serious as You-Know-Who's return.

But knowing Art as he did, this probably constituted a major act of defiance for him. O'Bannon decided to accept it . . . for now.

"Sure thing, man," He assured him.

Jared and Rosa both nodded.

"One suggestion, though . . ." Rosa held up a finger. "You may need to use sub-categories for the Non-Believers side."

"What do you mean?" Artimus shot her a quizzical expression.

"Well, from the kids I've talked to," she looked to O'Bannon, "there are non-believers who are mad at you because some of their relatives died in the war and they think you're dishonoring their memories. Then there are some who think you're being duped by all your friends in England. Then there are some who think you're just plain naïve, but they blame it on the fact you're Muggle-born, and . . . you know what they say. 'You can tell a Muggle-born Merlin wore talking green underwear and rode around England on a pink hog that farted pixie dust, and they'd believe it.' Then there were one or two who thought Dumbledore has you under an Imperius Curse."

"So basically, the majority of people here think I'm either insensitive, stupid, naïve or cursed."

"There's probably some who think you're crazy, too," Jared offered.

"Gee, thanks."

Rosa glared at Jared briefly, then turned to O'Bannon. "Look, just take some comfort in the fact eight people at Salem believe you. Well, five not counting us. So that means there has to be . . ."

A nasally squeal cut off Rosa. O'Bannon's head whipped toward her. Something small and gray flashed across the ground.

Rosa shrieked.

"Rosa!" Jared leapt by her side.

"Get off! Get off!" Rosa kicked her left leg furiously.

That's when O'Bannon spotted it. A fat garden gnome clung tenaciously to Rosa's shoe.

"Little . . . son-of-a- . . ."

With a final kick, the gnome went spiraling through the air, smacked the side of an elm tree and tumbled to the ground. The little creature picked itself up, dusted itself off, and leered at Rosa.

O'Bannon silently chuckled when he recognized the gnome. Feetish, the garden gnome with the incurable foot fetish.

"Look at this!" Rosa stuck out her left foot. "I just got these shoes last week. Now this one's scratched and . . . Merlin's Beard! He drooled on it! I've got gnome spit on my shoe!"

Jared cracked up. Artimus turned away from Rosa, his face reddening as he held in his laughter.

Feetish, meanwhile, jumped up and down, making a gargling laugh.

Teeth bared, Rosa whipped out her wand. "You disgusting little . . ."

Orange sparks shot out of her wand. Feetish barely jumped out of the way in time and took off across the grass.

"Come back here, dammit!" Rosa ran after him, firing more orange sparks.

"Rosa, come on!" O'Bannon threw out his hands. "It's breakfast time!"

She ignored him and fired another hex at Feetish, missing again.

"Well I ain't waiting for her." Jared started down the path. "I'm starving."

O'Bannon and Artimus followed him, while Rosa pursued Feetish over a small hill.

They soon came to a large barn-like structure with red wooden siding. The sign above the door read PRISCILLA PRIMROSE COMMUNAL HALL.

O'Bannon went through first. Rows of tables with blue and silver cloths lined the hall. Three immense chandeliers hung from the high ceiling, each one containing swarms of glowbugs, who filled the crystalline structures with a rainbow of brilliant colors. Large rectangular windows looked out onto the rainy morning. O'Bannon glanced at the wall behind him, which bore a moving mural depicting a group of witches leaving behind the town of Salem and raising the first building of what would become the Salem Witches Institute.

"Good morning, good morning, my dears." A chubby female ghost with an apron and her hair in a bun swooped in front of them.

"So glad you could join us for breakfast," said the specter of Priscilla Primrose, one of the school's founders. "You must try the eggs benedict today. And the crepes are exceptional. At least that's what they tell me. It's not like I can sample them myself, being a ghost and all."

The ghost's face sagged. It then lit up when she looked at O'Bannon.

"Ah, Mister O'Bannon. You've certainly been the subject of much debate this morning."

"Lucky me." He gave Priscilla a half-smile.

"Oh, don't look so sullen, now. For six years I've had the pleasure of your company in my hall, and never have you given me cause to think you a dishonest young man."

"Thank you," he straightened up.

"Though for all our sakes, I hope you are wrong regarding these stories about You-Know-Who's return." Priscilla shuddered. "I thought I'd seen horrors during the Burning Times before we established this school. But You-Know-Who . . . oh pray the world never has to experience that evil again."

O'Bannon lowered his eyes. _I think it's too late for that._

Priscilla's eyes widened. She smiled as she looked past O'Bannon. "Ah. Good morning, dear."

He turned around, figuring it was Rosa, back from her insane mission of revenge.

Instead he found himself face-to-face with Cecilia Malfoy.

The two stared at one another in silence. O'Bannon's eyes narrowed as he gazed into Cecelia's hazel orbs. What the hell was going on in that head of hers? What was she really doing here at Salem?

Cecilia sighed. "Excuse me."

She brushed past O'Bannon. He watched her head to a table on the other side of the hall, where Serinta Sejant was seated. Cecilia sat next to the other Slytherin. Almost immediately the two girls put their heads together in deep conversation.

O'Bannon shook his head. What the hell were they talking about?

"Not very friendly to the new student, are we?" Priscilla canted her round head.

"I've got my reasons."

He nodded to the ghost and headed for the nearest table, followed by Jared and Artimus. O'Bannon's face lit up when he noticed three students he recognized from the Jingosocke Hall Quidditch team.

"Lester. Eli. Abigail." He sat across from the trio. "How the heck are you?"

Lester, a husky Beater, and Eli, a lean Chaser with a shaved scalp, both glared at him. With an emphatic snort, Lester grabbed his fine china plate and stood. Eli did the same a moment later.

"It's not funny what you're doing, Jimmy." Lester still glared at him. "My mother lost both legs in the war."

With that, the two made for a spot further down the table.

O'Bannon scowled at them. He'd known Lester and Eli for years. Of course, he could say that about many of the kids here who didn't believe him. And in all that time he'd never given any of them a reason to think he was a habitual liar.

So what the hell changed? Did stories in _The All-Seeing Eye_ matter more than the word of a friend? Especially a friend who was actually at Hogwarts when Diggory died? Or could it be this stupid Muggle-born prejudice? Somehow coming from non-magic parents made him less credible than an all-mighty pureblood?

O'Bannon felt eyes on him. He switched his gaze from Lester and Eli to Abigail. The lithe blond still sat across from him, staring at him.

"Yeah?" He asked in a rather annoyed tone.

"Jimmy, please." She held up a hand. "I don't think you're doing this to be hurtful to anyone."

"Well, thanks for that."

"It's just . . . look, Harry Potter's story is known all over the world. And, for a Muggle-born like yourself, hearing about his story from the day you set foot in Salem, then actually meeting him . . . I'm sure it must be overwhelming to meet someone that famous. And it might make someone like you more willing to believe anything he says."

O'Bannon felt blood pulsing in his cheeks. He clenched his fists, trying to contain a verbal eruption. He'd more than had enough of this 'the poor Muggle-born just doesn't understand' crap.

"How about this?" He spoke deliberately. "Maybe the reason I'm talking about You-Know-Who being back, is because it's friggin' true."

Abigail lowered her head. Her shoulders sagged. "Jimmy, please. Just . . . just think about what I said, okay? I . . . I better get to class."

The Jingosocke Seeker left her half-eaten breakfast and headed for the exit.

O'Bannon checked his watch. Classes didn't start for another forty-five minutes.

_Maybe being seen with me is considered a strike against your social status here._

Face scrunched in anger, O'Bannon scooped up a couple eggs benedict from the platter in front of him and plopped them onto his plate, which bore an etching of the Salem Witches Institute logo. He then poured himself a glass of pumpkin juice and slammed the pitcher back down on the table. Several students around him stared. O'Bannon didn't care.

_Well my mind's made up on my Seventh Year Seminar._ He would do it on the impact of Muggle-borns on the wizarding world. No! Better yet. He'd do it on these stupid stereotypes of Muggle-borns. And if that pissed off some people, good!

O'Bannon had polished off his eggs benedict and was about to go for some pancakes when Rosa entered the Communal Hall. Her hair looked a mess, her robes were wrinkled and she only wore one shoe. She grunted and plopped down next to Jared.

"So, you get Feetish?"

Rosa's head whipped toward Jared. Her nostrils flared as she spoke. "I had him. I had that sick little bastard right in my sights . . . and I slipped in the friggin' mud!"

Other students looked at Rosa as she continued. "I was just picking myself up when Feetish ripped off my shoe and dove down a hole with it. You know how much this pair of shoes cost me? And that little pervert has one of 'em. Probably sniffing it right now or something."

Rosa shuddered. "So since I didn't feel like starving to death for the rest of the morning, I had to forget about my shoe and use a cleaning charm and a drying charm. That's always fun to do in the rain. And Merlin, my hair has to be a mess."

"Actually, it doesn't look that bad." Jared smiled at her. "But, Rosa. There is something you should know."

"What?"

"You've got mud on your teeth."

Jared chuckled.

Rosa sat through breakfast with a murderous look on her face.

**XXXXX**

_I must be cursed._

O'Bannon closed his eyes and groaned when he walked into History of Magic with Rosa, Jared and Artimus. Serinta and Cecilia sat in the back row.

"You think those Slytherin chicks are gonna be in any more of our classes?" asked Jared.

"The way my luck's been going, count on it."

O'Bannon shot the girls a sideways glare as he walked between the rows of desks and took one near the front of the classroom. Artimus sat next to him, and the cousins behind them. O'Bannon scanned the classroom, briefly studying the numerous moving portraits of famous wizards in American history, a hand drawn map of the U.S. with floating banners marking prominent magical locations and another glowbug-filled chandelier.

"Good mornin', me lovie dovies."

O'Bannon sat up straighter when he heard the Jamaican accent. A woman with chocolate skin and regal features with short black hair and stylish robes breezed into the classroom. O'Bannon's heartbeat picked up. It had been a long time since he laid eyes on Miss Venatici. Man, she still looked smokin' hot!

She picked up her attendance sheet, scanned it briefly, then gazed up at O'Bannon with a gleaming smile.

"Ah, Jimmy. Welcome home."

"Thanks, Miss Venatici."

"I hope you had a wonderful experience at Hogwarts."

"Yeah, it was cool." For a few moments O'Bannon managed not to think about the end of the Tri-Wizard Tournament, imagining instead what Miss Venatici would look like without her robes.

"Ah, and I see we also have some exchange students from Hogwarts here." Miss Venatici looked to the back of the classroom and waved to Serinta and Cecilia. "Welcome to Salem, young ladies."

O'Bannon's smile lessened. He wondered if Miss Venatici would be so friendly if she knew what Slytherins were really like.

"All right, me lovie dovies. It's going to be a busy semester for us, so we're just going to dive right in." Miss Venatici walked around to the front of her desk. "Now, your project will be to pick a historical event and explain how it still impacts the Wizarding World today. This won't only be a written project, but you must also do an oral presentation with visual aids. Now, I have a list of historical events you can choose from, or if you want to pick one not on the list, that's fine, too. So, you're going to partner with one of your friends and start planning your project."

O'Bannon looked around at his three friends, digging through his memory. The last time he partnered up with Rosa, and the time before it was Jared. So this time it looked like it would be him and Artimus . . .

"Oh no." Miss Venatici raised an arm as desks started to shuffle. "Wait, wait, wait. For the last seven years you kids have usually partnered up with the same people. So this time, we're going to do things a little different. We're going to let the Fates decide who will be your partner this semester."

Miss Venatici waved her wand. The names of all the students in the class hovered in the air in blazing orange letters. O'Bannon's eyes settled on one name in particular.

Rana Rollingsworth.

With another swipe of her wand, Miss Venatici sent the names swirling around like a glittering orange tornado.

O'Bannon looked over his shoulder. Rana sat two rows away. She was gazing at the magical tornado, then took her eyes off it and looked his way. O'Bannon held his breath when he saw Rana smile.

He turned back to the tornado and clasped his hands together.

_Please, please, please. I'm due for some good luck. Please, please, please, let it be Rana._

The tornado began to slow. O'Bannon drew an anxious breath as the names became readable again.

The swirling stopped. His eyes flickered all around looking, for his name.

JIMMY O'BANNON AND . . .

His mouth fell open. _Oh come on! Does the whole friggin' universe hate me or something?_

Frowning, he turned to his right and spotted an overweight girl five desks away with thick glasses and very short dark hair.

"You got Audrie Sexton?" Jared patted him on the shoulder. "Good luck with that."

O'Bannon groaned. Audrie Sexton was one of those girls who didn't have very many friends, and the few she did have she followed around with the fanaticism of a stalker.

He returned his gaze to the names floating above them. _Let's see who was luckier than me._

Jared got partnered up with Ursa Oberlin. Well, maybe he could convert her to the Believer column on Artimus' tally sheet.

Rosa wound up with Marcel Dubuque.

_I wonder if he'll bitch to her about how he should be captain instead of me._

Rana's partner was . . . _aw crap._

Gregory Lancemore. A white hot flame of anger surged through O'Bannon. He imagined Lancemore spending the entire project hitting on Rana.

Dammit. All the girls here at Salem and Lancemore had to get teamed with the one he was interested in.

Still fuming, O'Bannon glimpsed Artimus out the corner of his eye. His friend stared at the floating names with his mouth agape.

"Yo, man. What's up?" O'Bannon scanned the names. When he came to Artimus and his partner, his body seized up. Shock kept him from blinking. His eyes stayed locked on the two names next to one another.

ARTIMUS RAND AND CECILIA MALFOY.

_**TO BE CONTINUED**_


	4. Chapter 4

Artimus thought his heart would pound right through his chest. He took a ragged breath, trying unsuccessfully to calm himself. All the stories Jimmy had told him about the Slytherins churned in his mind. Their racism, their bullying, their ties to the Dark Lord.

According to Jimmy, Draco Malfoy was the worst of the bunch.

And now he had to partner with a girl who shared his last name.

"Come on, now," Miss Venatici said. "This class doesn't last forever. Get with your partner and pick your project."

Artimus swallowed. Slowly, he rose from his seat.

"Art."

He turned to Jimmy, who wore a very serious expression.

"Watch your ass," he said under his breath.

Artimus nodded. With tremors running down his legs, he walked hesitantly toward the back of the classroom where Cecilia Malfoy sat.

The girl stared at him. Artimus detected no hint of a smile, no warmth in her eyes. Just . . . well, he wouldn't call it evil. Cecilia just seemed to be silently appraising him.

He held his breath, wondering what she must be thinking of him.

Artimus stopped next to her desk. Several seconds passed without a word.

"Well. Are you going to sit down?" Cecilia spoke in a flat tone.

Artimus barely nodded. He lowered himself into an empty desk next to Cecilia. Glancing over his shoulder, he spotted Jimmy. His friend ignored Audrie Sexton, who chatted rather excitedly at him, and met his eyes.

_Just play it cool. Like Jimmy does._

"So you're a friend of O'Bannon's."

Artimus whipped around to face Cecilia. Was she pumping him for information? For what purpose? He wondered if he should answer her.

_Well, it's not really a secret Jimmy and I are friends._

"Yes," he muttered.

Cecilia's face stayed neutral. She leaned back in her seat. "He's not very popular among those in my House."

Artimus just nodded. Where was she going with all this?

"I thought no one in the world could irritate my cousin Draco more than Harry Potter. But your friend managed to succeed. He still says the name 'Jimmy O'Bannon' as if he was spitting venom."

Artimus took another look back at Jimmy. He couldn't believe this girl's cousin could be so hung up on one hockey game.

Before he could figure out how to respond, pieces of parchment flew across the classroom and landed on the desks. Artimus picked up his piece and scanned the possible topics.

**THE CAPE ANN INCIDENT: THE LAST ATTEMPT TO BRING TOGETHER THE MUGGLE AND WIZARDING WORLDS.**

**THE USE OF MAGIC IN THE BATTLE OF TRENTON.**

**THE WEREWOLF PARANOIA OF 1752.**

**THE ARREST OF SECRETARY OF MAGIC DAEDALUS DIBBLEDETT IN 1894.**

Artimus was staring at **WAR WITH THE ADIRONDACK MOUNTAIN GIANTS, 1803-1806** when it suddenly vanished. Someone must have picked it.

Another topic vanished . . . and another . . . and another.

"Well?" Cecilia sounded annoyed. "Are we going to pick one before they're all gone?"

"Um . . . okay. Which one are you interested in?"

Cecilia shrugged. "I don't know anything about American Wizarding history. You pick something."

Artimus looked back down at the parchment. More topics disappeared. His heart raced faster. He had to pick something.

_Or what? Do you really think she'll hex you if you pick a topic she doesn't like?_

From the way Jimmy talked about the Slytherins, he wouldn't put it past her.

"Um . . . okay. How about Magic and the Battle of Trenton?"

Artimus' neck muscles tightened. He stared at Cecilia, waiting for approval or disapproval. Her face, however, was unreadable.

"Fine," she muttered.

Artimus felt the tension melt from his body. "Okay. So, um . . . how should we . . ."

"Why are you so frightened of me?"

His entire body froze. Artimus aimed an unblinking stare at Cecilia. Was he that transparent? Dammit, why couldn't he hide his emotions like Jimmy did during hockey games?

"Um . . . I'm not." The words sounded unconvincing even to him.

Now Cecilia leaned forward. "Just what the hell has O'Bannon been saying about me?"

Jimmy's words echoed through Artimus' head. _"Watch your ass."_

"Why are you so interested in Jimmy?"

"Because if I'm going to be at this school for the next few months, I'd like to know what sort of stories he's telling about me, my family, my House. I'd also like to be prepared for any potential trouble from him or any other students here, so I can deal with it if necessary."

A determined look crossed Cecilia's face. She aimed a penetrating gaze at Artimus.

A shiver went up his spine.

**XXXXX**

O'Bannon sighed as he trudged up the wide wooden staircase, his bookbag slung over his shoulder. The teachers sure didn't waste time piling homework and projects on everyone their very first day back at Salem. Hell, he couldn't remember a time during the previous six years he'd had so much school work.

_No one said Seventh Year would be easy . . . dammit._

He hit the landing and turned right, noticing a servant elf cleaning one of the double casement windows. O'Bannon's mind churned, trying to figure out how to get all this work done . . . and on top of that, put together the Blazenrowe hockey team.

_And as if I don't have enough to deal with, there are the Slytherin chicks._

Artimus pulled him aside after History of Magic and told him about his conversation with Cecilia Malfoy. O'Bannon didn't like all the interest Draco's cousin showed in him.

The back of his neck tingled. Was Cecilia up to something? Was she simply being an annoying buttmunch like all Slytherins? Could it be nothing more than idle curiosity?

O'Bannon doubted that, not with someone who bore the last name of Malfoy.

He used his wand to unlock the door to his dorm room. O'Bannon walked across the silver carpeting and chucked his bookbag onto one of the four king-sized beds. Above the backboard hung two banners, the silver and blue one for the Salem Witches Institute, and the red and gold one for Gryffindor House. They were flanked by a pair of non-moving posters, one with former Boston Bruin Bobby Orr in mid-flight of "The Shot" from the 1970 Stanley Cup Championship, the other of Boston Red Sox shortstop Nomar Garciaparra swinging for the fences.

O'Bannon plopped into the chair in front of his rolltop desk. He pulled out a postcard from one of the drawers and reached for his ink bottle and quill. Time to write to Fred and George and find out why the hell two Slytherins were at Salem. Hopefully they'd know.

_And if they do, why the hell didn't they write to me before the semester started?_

O'Bannon started to write, shaking his head. It would take days for his owl Espo to reach England and return with the twins' reply. The pureblood snobs and racists could say what they wanted to about Muggles, but at least a Muggle could send a message across the world in the blink of an eye thanks to a neat little thing called e-mail.

_You'd think the Wizarding World would come up with its own version of it._

Then again, the Wizarding World still hadn't discovered the wonders of the friggin' ballpoint pen.

O'Bannon had just finished his second sentence when something tapped on the window. He got up and walked toward it.

A little brown owl was perched on the window sill, flapping its wings. O'Bannon's eyes widened in recognition.

"Pigwidgeon?"

He opened the window. The owl flew inside, dropped a postcard and a small red box on his desk, and landed beside them.

"Boy, am I glad to see you." He stroked Ron Weasley's owl on the head. The bird cooed softly. O'Bannon plucked a treat from a slot in his desk. "Pig" greedily took it from his hand.

O'Bannon picked up the postcard, which showed the village square of Hogsmeade covered in snow. He turned it over and read the short message.

_Jimmy Boy,_

_Things are wonderful at Hogwarts. Hope you're doing well on your side of the pond. Go Bruins!_

_Your pals,_

_Fred & George Weasley_

O'Bannon flipped over the postcard and studied it.

_Where is it? Where is it?_

He spent nearly ten minutes carefully scanning the postcard, both praising and cursing the twins for their cleverness.

Finally he found it. In the marble base of the statue he spotted the outline of a pair of skates tied together. O'Bannon pulled out his wand and tapped the outline three times.

"Triad!"

The picture of Hogsmeade dissolved, replaced by lines of fancy script.

O'Bannon grinned. The whole process of getting to the twins' real message could be a pain in the ass, having to find a hockey object hidden in the postcard, tap it with a wand and utter the constantly changing code word. But given the current situation, neither he or Fred and George wanted their messages falling into the wrong hands.

The words scrolled up the postcard as O'Bannon read.

_Jimmy Boy,_

_If you are reading this, I will assume you have recovered, at least partially, from the shock of having two Slytherins walking around your school. I wish we could have told you about this before you returned to Salem, unfortunately we found out about Serinta Sejant and Cecilia Malfoy heading your way after our first day of classes. _

_This should come as no surprise, but Professor Dumbledore had nothing to do with this. Like he would really send a couple Slytherins abroad to represent Hogwarts. This was all the work of the school's Board of Governors. And when I say Board of Governors, I mean Cecilia's charming (please picture me saying that with much sarcasm dripping from my tongue) Uncle Lucius. He claims since Cecelia and Serinta have consistently been at the top of their class since their First Year, they earned the right to study abroad for one term. Our "brother" whose name starts with the same letter as the words "Prat" and "Pussface" applied to study abroad during his Fifth Year. The whole process took months to shake out. But these two get to be exchange students simply at the whim of Draco's slimebag father? As the Muggles would say, "Something's rotting in Denmark."_

O'Bannon chuckled softly, as he usually did when purebloods butchered classic Muggle expressions.

He read on.

_Oh, by the way, that particular brother, who from now on we shall refer to as "That Gimboid," didn't qualify to study abroad, wallowed in misery, and subjected the rest of us to said misery._

The handwriting changed slightly.

_Come on, Fred. You've written enough. My turn. Hello, Jimmy. George here. I guess you'd like to know the inside scoop on Miss Sejant and Miss Malfoy. Unfortunately, even though they're in our year, we really don't know much about them. Let's face it, why would two dashing, upstanding Gryffindors like us associate with two tramps from Slytherin?_

_Here, here! Well, said George._

_Thank you, Fred. Anyway, the most I can tell you about Serinta Sejant is she's an absolute bitch. I've never seen her smile once in my seven years here. She may do it when she's pulling the ears off puppies, but I have never personally witnessed such an act. As for Cecilia . . . well, she's a Malfoy. What more do I need to say? Although, I've rarely seen her with Draco. Rumor has it they're not particularly close. Then again, this is the Malfoy family. Love and togetherness don't seem very high on their priority list._

_As to why Draco's dad sent them to Salem, your guess is as good as mine. Again, rumor has it Lucius Malfoy is still hot that we beat his pwecious widdle Dwaco in our hockey game. Being embarrassed by Muggle-borns and "blood traitors" doesn't sit too well with that family. You may want to keep that in mind. Or, I have heard Dad and Bill mention that the sons and daughters of Death Eaters may be used to recruit fellow students to You-Know-Who's side. Both of Serinta's parents were Death Eaters. Her mum died in the last war, but her dad is still in Azkaban. Cecilia . . . again, last name Malfoy. You know where that family stands._

_My turn now, George. Well, Jimmy Boy, now that you're up to speed on your new classmates, it's time to tell you our tale of woe. As if Harry's hearing before the Ministry wasn't bad enough, most of the students here are buying all the rubbish put out by the Daily Prophet. They think he's lying about You-Know-Who's return. Actually, a lot of people think Harry's gone mad. And to make matters worse, the Ministry forced this fat, toad-faced hag on us as the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. Keeps insisting everything is just wonderful with the world and doesn't teach us anything useful. And Merlin help anyone who crosses her. I really miss Mad-Eye Moody. Okay, it really wasn't Mad-Eye who taught us, but I'd rather have that imposter back than this Umbridge cow._

_Now, Fred. There is some good news to report. Well, good news depending on your point of view. Hermione was named one of the new Gryffindor prefects._

O'Bannon nodded. That didn't come as a surprise. He felt a pang of sympathy for Fred, George and Lee Jordan. He doubted Hermione would tolerate their antics now that she had a prefect's badge.

_And the other one . . . I hope you're sitting down for this. Ickle Ronniekins was made a prefect!_

O'Bannon's jaw dropped. Ron Weasley? A prefect?

_He musta banged someone to get that job._

Well, hopefully being a prefect would give help give Ron a boost in his confidence, an area in which the poor guy was sorely lacking.

_Oh! Also, we sent you one of our Surprising Snackboxes. Basically, we throw all our candy into a bowl, pull out a few pieces, and stick them in a box. We don't even know exactly what's in it. Pass it around Salem and report to us what happens._

_That's all for now, Jimmy. Always keep at least one eye on those Slytherin girls. I'm sure they're concocting some scheme to make your life miserable. Hey, they are Slytherin. That's what they do._

_Your Pals,_

_Fred & George Weasley_

_P.S. The next code word is "Canadiens Suck!"_

O'Bannon grinned at that one. That was a code he'd easily remember. As a Bruins fan, he felt the same way about the Montreal Canadiens as the average Gryffindor does about Slytherin House.

"Hang here for a minute, Pig." He gave the owl another treat and sat down to reply to Fred and George's message.

The door opened.

O'Bannon slapped a hand down on the twins' postcard and whipped around.

He relaxed when he saw Jared and Rosa enter.

"Whoa, relax." Rosa held up her hands. "It's just us."

"Sorry. I just got a postcard from our favorite redheads."

Rosa's eyes lit up. So did Jared's. He quickly shut the door. O'Bannon cast a Muffling Charm taught to him by Rosa so no one outside the room could eavesdrop on them.

"So do they know about the snake girls?" Rosa strode over to O'Bannon's desk.

He handed her the postcard. Jared stood next to her as they both read it.

"Dude, do you really think Draco's old man would send these two chicks here to mess with you because of a game of hockey?"

O'Bannon took the postcard from Jared and answered him. "Yeah, I know. It sounds petty. But from everything Harry told me about Lucius Malfoy, I'd believe it. Here's a perfect analogy. Did I ever tell you guys about Hank Aaron?"

The cousins shook their heads.

"He's Major League Baseball's all-time home run leader. But when he was going for that record in the early Seventies, a lot of people in this country didn't want him to get it. They even sent him a ton of death threats."

Rosa canted her head. "Just because he was going for this home run record?"

"Actually, it had more to do with his skin color. Aaron's black. And at the time, a lot of people hated the idea of a black man breaking a record held by a white man . . . that white man being Babe Ruth. So yeah, I can easily see a jagoff like Draco's dad messing with me because of a game of hockey. Only here you can replace black and white with pureblood and Muggle-born."

O'Bannon tossed the twins' postcard into the air and aimed his wand at it.

"_Ustilo!"_

_  
_The postcard vanished in a flash of flame. Just another precaution to make sure the wrong people didn't read it. As the ashes fluttered to the floor, O'Bannon noticed Jared fold his arms and shake his head.

"I don't know, man. I mean, with You-Know-Who back, you'd figure Lucius Malfoy would have more important things to do than stay pissed about some hockey game his kid lost."

O'Bannon softly groaned. Why the hell couldn't Jared take his word for it?

"Whatever the reason," Rosa jumped in. "After reading that postcard, there's no way Cecilia's and Serinta's being here is completely innocent."

"Well, you're the one who wants to be an auror." Jared turned to her. "How do we find out what they're up to?"

Rosa worked her jaw back and forth. "Well . . . we could place an Extendable Ear outside their room and listen in whenever they're together."

"Yeah, but what if they have a Muffling Charm around their room like us?" Jared pointed out.

Rosa frowned.

Silence hung over the room. O'Bannon slouched in his seat and rested his chin between his thumb and index finger. _Think, man. Think!_

"Man . . ." Jared threw out his hands. "There's gotta be a way to . . ." He stopped and stared at O'Bannon's desk. "Yo, Jimmy. Where did you get the candy?"

O'Bannon turned and laid his eyes on Fred and George's Surprising Snackbox. He bit his lower lip as an idea formed.

_No. I shouldn't._

"Oh . . . um, my mom musta threw it in my trunk before I left. Musta wanted it to be a surprise. Help yourself."

Jared smiled and opened the box. He took one piece for himself and handed another to Rosa.

"Jimmy?" He offered him a piece.

"No, that's okay." O'Bannon tried to keep his voice steady and not laugh. "I don't want to spoil my dinner."

"Whatever." Jared shrugged. He then turned to Rosa.

"Cheers."

They tapped their pieces together and popped them in their mouths.

O'Bannon clenched teeth. Laughter bubbled in his mouth, begging for release.

"So," Jared began after he swallowed his candy. "Going back to how to find out what the snake girls are up to. I take it asking them straight up won't do it."

"And they'll probably get suspicious if they see any of us following them around," Rosa said.

The barely contained laughter within O'Bannon evaporated. He suddenly sat up straight in his chair.

"Not all of us."

The cousins looked at him. "What do you mean?" Rosa asked.

"Artimus. He's Cecilia Malfoy's partner in History of Magic. They'll be around each other all the time. He's the perfect one to do a little spying for us."

Jared emitted a long sigh. "Do you think he's up to that?"

"He'll have to be."

"Look, Jimmy," Rosa began. "I love Art, but you know he can . . . can . . ."

Rosa face tightened. Her head trembled. O'Bannon thought she was about to puke.

"Rosa." Jared put a hand on her shoulder. "You okay?"

Rosa's eyes popped open. Her body blew up like a balloon. Huge elephant ears dangled from her head, still decorated with her usual amount of earrings and studs. Her nose grew into an elephant trunk.

"What the f . . . f . . . ah . . . ahhhh . . ."

Jared put an arm to his face and sneezed.

A thick stream of snot exploded from his nose. Green mucus ricocheted off his arm, splattering onto the wall, the beds, the desks, an irate Pigwidgeon . . .

And Rosa.

O'Bannon fell off his chair, ignoring the snot staining his robes and hair, and howled hysterically.

"Yo, what the hell?!" Jared's voice went up an octave.

O'Bannon was on all fours, trying to talk while cackling. "I forgot . . . they weren't from my mom . . . they came . . ." He fell on his side, convulsing with laughter. "They're from . . . they're from Fred and George."

Now O'Bannon was almost hyperventilating. "Oh man . . . oh God. Oh, I needed a good laugh."

Rosa and Jared glared at him.

"Oh, come on. It was just a jo . . ."

The cousins pulled out their wands.

O'Bannon stopped laughing. "Oh crap."

The hexes hit him before he could scramble to his feet.

O'Bannon spent the next hour in the school's infirmary where the school nurse worked to rid him of the moss covering his face and the seaweed growing out his ears and nose.

_TO BE CONTINUED_

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: **_I figured, for once, I should have a humorous ending to one of my chapters. But from here on out, things get pretty darn serious._


	5. Chapter 5

After two weeks back, Jimmy O'Bannon's Seventh and final year at the Salem Witches Institute still sucked.

He barely managed to keep up with all the homework and projects the teachers foisted on him and the other students. The near-impossible workload resulted in much stress around the school. One day at lunch he saw Bertha Brumblebock from his Transfiguration class break down in front of the entire Communal Hall, crying that she'd never be able to complete all her work and graduate. Then there was the night Ursa Oberlin and one of her roommates, Cindy Walker, got into a screaming match in the parlor of Blazenrowe Hall, with Ursa yelling that Cindy didn't "understand that school work doesn't come easy for me like it does for you!"

Even Artimus snapped at O'Bannon one day when he asked his friend if he learned anything about Cecilia Malfoy's true purpose at Salem.

"You ask me that every day! The answer is still no. When she does say something I'll let you know. Merlin's Beard, quit treating me like an idiot!"

Artimus later apologized to O'Bannon, but the outburst still left him scratching his head. It was so out of character for him.

But it also made him realize he still didn't know what Cecilia and Serinta Sejant were really up to.

Even worse, the majority of the Salem student population still didn't believe him about Lord Voldemort's return. The harder he tried to convince everyone, the more people he pissed off. Rosa Infante told him to back off until he came up with a new tactic, since the "beating them over the head approach" failed to get him anywhere. It took two days, six heated arguments and a near wand fight before O'Bannon took her advice. The decision left a bad taste in his mouth. He'd promised Headmaster Dumbledore, the Weasleys and Harry Potter he would do everything he could to drum up support for their cause in the States. Now he felt he was letting his friends in England down.

Then he had the nightmares to deal with. Just like during the summer, he dreamed he was back at the Quidditch pitch for the third task of the Tri-Wizard Tournament. Harry suddenly appeared out of thin air kneeling over a lifeless Cedric Diggory. But some nights Cedric's body would be replaced by that of a friend. Rosa, Jared, Artimus, Fred, George, Mireet, Ginny Weasley, Dean Thomas. One particular nightmare had Harry dead with a figure in black robes standing over him. The thing grew rapidly, engulfing O'Bannon in darkness. He woke up drenched in sweat, unable to fall back to sleep for the rest of that night.

Today, O'Bannon hoped he could forget about all that. Because today he had scheduled his first tryout for the Blazenrowe hockey team.

But instead of looking forward to it, the prospect made him nervous as hell. He barely talked to Rosa, Jared and Artimus as they walked to the Communal Hall, with Rosa clenching her wand on the lookout for Feetish. He wondered if he could put together a good team. He wondered if they would follow him the same way the Triad did at Hogwarts. And the schedule . . . O'Bannon clenched his teeth when he saw their first opponent of the season. Ardenturo Hall. Last year they captured the championships in nearly every sport at Salem; hockey, Quidditch, wizard chess. About the only thing they didn't win at was Gobstones, but who gave a damn about that. Nearly every student from the other three halls – Blazenrowe, Jingosocke and Krallenhurst – wanted to see Ardenturo knocked off its high horse.

_Yeah. No pressure there._

O'Bannon entered the Communal Hall, ignoring the cheerful greetings of the ghost of Priscilla Primrose. The tangy smell of eggs, bacon, ham and cinnamon raisin oatmeal created a raging storm of nausea in his stomach. He clenched his teeth, praying he wouldn't throw up in front of the entire school.

"You okay, Jimmy?" Rosa put a hand on his back.

"Yeah. Fine." He nodded. "Let's eat."

The four sat down. O'Bannon poured himself a bowl of corn flakes and took a few pieces of toast. Somehow he forced a big spoonful of cereal into his mouth, chewed it and swallowed. How he managed to keep it down he didn't know.

"Jeez. Isaac looks nervous."

O'Bannon followed Jared's gaze to the entrance of the Communal Hall. Isaac Pinder had walked in, head down, looking white as a sheet.

"I feel so bad for that kid." A sympathetic look crossed Rosa's face. "His brother was such a great player and he . . ." She sighed, unable to complete the sentence.

Jared did it for her. "Yeah, and he isn't."

"Jared." She scolded him.

"What? I'm not saying it to be mean. I like Isaac, but it's the truth. The kid can't play."

O'Bannon tried to think of something to say, until he saw Cecilia and Serinta cross in front of Isaac. The boy never saw them, and bumped into Serinta.

"You idiot! Watch where you're going!"

"Sorry," Isaac muttered.

Serinta glowered at him. "Stupid, useless bug."

Isaac shuddered, looking like he would cry. The two Slytherin girls stomped past O'Bannon and the others at his table. He noticed Serinta's face red with rage. The skin between Cecilia's thin eyebrows crinkled with anger.

"Well, they're in a cheery mood." Jared shoved a strip of bacon into his mouth.

Isaac took a seat and just stared at his hands, not even bothering to eat. O'Bannon wanted to do the same. He felt like someone had turned on a wave machine in his stomach. But he couldn't do that. He was team captain. He couldn't afford to look nervous. So he forced down his corn flakes, toast and pumpkin juice and prayed he didn't puke.

He did. Thankfully it happened in a bathroom back at Blazenrowe Hall, so no one else saw it. After spending a couple minutes ridding himself of the stale taste with mouthwash, he grabbed his gear and headed out. He kept his head up and took several deep breaths, trying to combat his nervousness.

_You can do this._

Everyone had said he was a natural leader. He'd proven that in the past by quarterbacking the second line and the top penalty killing unit. Hell, he'd even put together a team from scratch at Hogwarts and led them to victory over Slytherin. He should certainly be able to do the same here at Salem.

O'Bannon reached the bottom of the steps when a female voice called out to him.

"Hi, Jimmy."

He stopped. An electric tingle shot through his body. He turned to find a smiling Rana Rollingsworth striding over to him. Damn, but she had a beautiful smile.

"Hey, Rana. How are you doing?"

"Fine. Busy, though."

"Yeah. Who isn't around here?" He'd been so consumed by schoolwork he hardly ever saw Rana outside of class or meals.

"I know, it's nuts."

Silence hung over them. O'Bannon searched for something to say, but Rana beat him to it.

"You doing okay?" Concern filled her eyes. "I mean, I guess you know a lot of people here aren't happy with you telling stories that You-Know-Who is back."

"Yeah, well, it's the truth. If people can't handle it, too damn bad."

"That's what I always liked about you, Jimmy. When you believe in something, you don't back down, even if the whole world's against you."

"Thanks," he said breathlessly. His insides somersaulted, but in a good way.

"So, hockey practice today?" She glanced at his stick and skates.

"Yeah. First day of tryouts."

"Well, best of luck. Hopefully you can beat Ardenturo. Merlin's Beard, you should have seen them when they won the championship last year. They were so smug."

O'Bannon didn't feel the same pressure as he did when others told him Blazenrowe just had to beat Ardenturo this year. From Rana it sounded more like encouragement. For a moment he wanted to forget about tryouts and just stand her talking to her.

"Um, say. You wanna come watch?"

Rana canted her head and gave him a sympathetic smile. "I wish I could. But I have to get together with Gregory and work on our History of Magic project."

O'Bannon gripped his stick tighter. Intense flames of anger burned behind his eyes. Gregory Lancemore. For a second O'Bannon pictured himself beating the Blazenrowe Quidditch captain into a bloody mess. No doubt the s.o.b. was hitting on Rana. He hit on every hot girl at Salem. Why the hell couldn't the jagoff leave Rana alone? _He _liked Rana.

"Oh. Yeah, I understand." He tried to hide his disappointment, wondering if he succeeded. "Maybe next time."

"Yeah. Sure. I'll see you, Jimmy. Good luck . . . Captain."

With another pleasant smile, Rana headed toward the parlor.

Once she was out of sight, O'Bannon kicked open the front door. He growled at the thought of Gregory Lancemore sitting next to Rana, telling stupid jokes, making her laugh, putting a hand on her shoulder, leaning in to . . .

He saw a small rock on the ground and kicked it right into a flower bed. A couple garden gnomes jumped out and hissed at him. O'Bannon ignored them and shook his head. He never thought this way about Gregory Lancemore before. They'd always gotten along well since their First Year. Most times he admired the guy's ability to pick up witches with ease.

_That was before he got partnered with a witch I like._

_Well then, Jimmy Boy. You better do something about it before those two start sucking face._

He grimaced at the thought.

O'Bannon walked down the small hill behind Blazerowe Hall and headed for the pond the hockey team used for practice. Half-a-dozen people were already there, including Rosa and Jared.

"Greetings, Exalted Captain." Jared threw him a salute. So did Rosa.

"Ha ha, very funny. Now drop and give me twenty."

The cousins both gave him a dismissive wave.

After getting into his pads, skates and helmet, O'Bannon aimed his wand at the pond.

"_Freezium!"_

A white beam shot from his wand. Within seconds the Freezing Spell had turned the water to ice. Everyone stepped onto it and skated around. Over the next ten minutes other Blazenrowe students showed up.

At 11 a.m., O'Bannon scanned the ice. He furrowed his brow when he saw just twenty-two people. He called over Rosa and Jared.

"What the hell's up?" He swiveled his head between the two. "We always get way more people than this for tryouts."

"I don't know, man." Jared shook his head. "I mean, we had announcements posted all over Blazenrowe."

O'Bannon's lips twisted. "We're even missing some of our returners."

He looked over Jared's shoulder and spotted a stocky young black kid skate by.

"Yo, Dante!"

Dante Marshall, who'd been with the team for four years, came over to him. "What's up, Jimmy?"

"Where the heck is everyone? I don't see Walden or Frissell or Householder."

Dante cleared his throat and cast his eyes down. "Uh . . . yeah, well . . ."

"There a problem?"

"Yeah." Dante sighed and looked up at O'Bannon. "Those three said they weren't coming out for the team this year."

"What?" Rosa nearly screeched in surprise.

"You gotta be kidding." Jared gawked at Dante. "Walden's our friggin' goalie. And Frissell's one of our best guy's on the penalty kill."

"Hey, man. I'm sorry. That's what they told me."

"Well did they give you a reason?" demanded Rosa.

"Yeah." Dante sheepishly looked at O'Bannon. "It's because of you, Jimmy, and all the stuff you keep saying about You-Know-Who being back. Walden lost both his parents in the war, remember? And Frissell's sister died when the Death Eaters burned down Logglill Meadows. And some others who wanted to come out said they wouldn't because they thought you were disrespecting everyone who fought and died in the war."

O'Bannon's head trembled. He breathed loudly through his nose, wondering if he could contain the emotional eruption begging to be released.

"What about you?" Rosa locked her eyes on Dante.

"Well, I'd like to see some proof he's back, you know. But Jimmy's always been straight with us. So I'm willing to believe him."

O'Bannon groaned. Not the most ringing endorsement, but at this point he'd take it.

Jared's face twisted in a sour look. "Damn. We can get along without Householder, but what are we gonna do without Walden and Frissell?"

"We'll just have to make do without them." O'Bannon straightened up, trying to radiate confidence. "We don't have much choice, do we?"

He skated out to the middle of the pond and called over everyone. The students grouped together in front of O'Bannon and his two alternate captains, Rosa and Marcel Dubuque. He'd hoped giving Dubuque one of the A's would help him get over his disappointment at not being named captain. Unfortunately, the defenseman still had a dour look on his face.

_Well, he'll have to get over it eventually._

"Welcome to tryouts for the Blazenrowe hockey team. For those of you who don't know me, my name's Jimmy O'Bannon, the team captain. And these are my alternates, Rosa Infante and Marcel Dubuque. Now, as you can see, the turnout for this year's tryouts is lower than normal due to . . . certain circumstances."

_Mainly that people think I'm full of crap about You-Know-Who._

He continued. "We also have some veteran players who won't be returning this year for their own personal reasons. That just means others will have to step up and take their place. And from looking around, it seems like we'll have a bunch of younger players on our roster this year." He eyed about eight Second and Third Year students, and two others who had to be First Years. "This may lead some people to think Blazenrowe will be the weakest of the four teams at Salem. Well I say that's a bunch of bullcrap. When I was in England, I put together a team made up of wizards and witches who didn't know jack about hockey. And you know what? I'd gladly lead them against _any _team at Salem. So we should have no trouble coming together and forging a team that can knock off Ardenturo this year and bring home the championship to Blazenrowe."

He was answered by a chorus of cheers.

"Also, for the newbies, just remember that, unlike most games in the Wizarding World, we don't use magic in hockey, save for a charm that can make anyone skate as easily as they can walk. Other than that's, it's all up to natural ability."

A small boy, an obvious First Year, raised his hand. "Excuse me, Captain O'Bannon. Why can't we use magic?"

"Well, the two Muggle-borns who created the school's hockey league back in the 1950s thought it would be a good way to have those who grew up in this world appreciate how Muggles get by without using magic. Not only that, but there will be times in your life when magic can't help you. That's when you'll have to rely on guts, brains and instinct. All of which you'll learn playing hockey."

The kid seemed to accept that.

"Okay. Enough of me yakkin'. Let's see what you got."

O'Bannon decided to do skating drills first. After setting up pylons along the ice, the players took turns zigzagging through them. No surprise the veteran players did very well, even last year's back-up goalie, a stout young man with a buzzcut named Spencer Cuthbert. Things changed when the younger players went. The First Year who asked O'Bannon the question about magic tripped over three of the cones.

_Gotta be a pureblood._

One of the Second Years went through the cones with ease and captured the third best time on the time. Dionne was his name.

_Damn, he's already got a great hockey name. _

Next he put the players through simple passing drills, basic back and forth stuff. O'Bannon made sure to team a veteran with one of the newbies. The younger players did well . . . especially since they were standing in one place while passing.

_Let's see how they do when we move._

That turned into an adventure. Many of the younger ones missed their partners by several inches, in some cases several feet. In one instance a girl no older than thirteen fired the puck completely off the pond and banged it off a nearby tree.

O'Bannon held his breath when Isaac Pinder went out, partnered with Rosa. He prayed all the kid's practicing over the summer paid off.

It didn't. Isaac mishandled two passes from Rosa. When he crossed the puck to Rosa, it was so far from her she fell when she reached out to get it.

Isaac slammed his stick on the ice as he circled around the net.

"Settle down, Isaac," O'Bannon told him.

Ten minutes later he changed things up again, putting Cuthbert in net. The younger players did even worse now that they had to pass _and _take the shot. Cuthbert only made two saves. The other pucks fired by the newbies usually missed the net by several feet.

Except for Dionne. The lanky, brown-haired boy skated up to the goal and put the puck over Cuthbert's left shoulder.

"Good job, Dionne." O'Bannon applauded, examining the kid as he skated back. Dionne didn't have a trace of nervousness on his face like the other players his age.

"He's played this game before," Rosa said to O'Bannon.

He nodded. "The kid looks like a natural."

A quick movement caught O'Bannon's attention. He noticed Isaac staring at him with a look of distress.

"Your turn, man. Good luck."

Isaac's face tightened. He took a deep breath and headed out with Rosa.

O'Bannon watched as he handled the first two passes well. The third one took a bad deflection off his stick and trickled behind him. O'Bannon could hear Isaac gasp as he whirled around, reeled in the puck, spun back around and fired.

Cuthbert flinched, then relaxed. The shot missed the net by at least six feet.

"Dammit!" Again Isaac slammed his stick on the ice.

"Calm down, Isaac," O'Bannon said forcefully. Inside he felt a pang of sympathy for the boy. He wondered if this pressure to follow in his brother's footsteps came from Isaac's parents or Isaac himself.

Next they did breakaways. O'Bannon put himself on Dionne, giving the kid a second head start before going after him. He almost caught up to Dionne when he fired the puck past Cuthbert.

"Nice one, Dionne." O'Bannon patted the kid on the back.

"Thank you," Dionne replied with a brief smile.

O'Bannon shook his head with bemusement. _Yeah, I think he's gonna make the team._

He skated by Isaac, and noticed the guy staring laser beams at Dionne.

"Isaac, Rosa. You're up."

Isaac took more deep breaths as he skated to the center of the pond. He put his blade on the puck and started toward the net. Rosa got on his tail a second later.

Isaac pumped his legs furiously. Rosa stayed on him. He closed on the net, still handling the puck well. Cuthbert set himself in the goal.

Isaac drew back for the shot. His stick came down the same time Rosa pokechecked the puck. A clatter of wood-on-wood echoed through the air. The puck dribbled toward the banks of the pond.

"No! No! No!"

O'Bannon's eyes widened as Isaac threw down his stick, then ripped off his gloves and chucked them across the pond.

"Isaac, calm down." Rosa reached out to him.

"Get away from me!" He swatted at Rosa, narrowly missing her hand. "I have to make this team! Don't you understand? I have to! I can be just as good as my brother! Why won't you let me make this team?"

"Isaac!" O'Bannon skated over to the boy, whose face had turned beat red. Tears spilled down his cheeks. "I am not putting up with these tantrums any more. Rosa's job was to deny you the shot. She did, so get over it. Now get back with the others . . . and if you do this one more time, I'll kick you off the ice and you can forget about ever making this team."

Isaac trembled. "You can't do that!"

"The 'C' on my chest says I can. Now get back with the others and don't say another word."

O'Bannon turned around, teeth clenched. Wonderful. Barely an hour into their first practice and already he had to be a hardass. And to Isaac Pinder of all people. He couldn't remember ever seeing that kid angry. Certainly not to this extent. How much stress must he be under to follow in his brother's . . .

"Jimmy!"

He swung around at the sound of Rosa's voice.

Isaac Pinder's stick crashed down on O'Bannon's head.

_TO BE CONTINUED_


	6. Chapter 6

A sliver of light pierced the darkness. It grew steadily. Shapes appeared before O'Bannon. Blurry at first. Slowly they began to take form.

He moved his head to the right. A vice clamped down on his skull. Grimacing, he observed a row of beds across from him, one of which was occupied.

_Is this the infirmary?_ How the hell did he get here?

O'Bannon suddenly realized he was lying down. He pushed himself up, groaning as pain squeezed his head. He stared at the blankets covering him.

Closing his eyes, he scanned his memory. What had he just been doing? The last thing he remembered . . . crap, what was the last thing he remembered?"

"Finally, you're up."

A heavyset woman with curled gray hair spilling from her bonnet approached his bed.

"How are you feeling?" asked Gretchen Gillwick, the school nurse.

"Fine," O'Bannon grumbled. "No. I mean, my head hurts. How did I get here?"

"Isaac Pinder hit you on the head with a hockey stick. Isaac Pinder of all people." Nurse Gillwick put her puffy, wrinkly face in front of O'Bannon. "Mm. Your pupils are looking much better. You had a pretty severe concussion when they brought you in here. Took a while to heal. Head injuries are always tricky. Thank Merlin you were wearing a helmet. I wish the Quidditch players would follow your lead. It'd probably reduce my workload after every match."

O'Bannon tuned her out. Flashes of memory played in his mind. He pictured Isaac enraged, though couldn't make out what he was saying. Then . . . then a girl's scream. Then blackness.

_Isaac Pinder hit me?_

O'Bannon rubbed his head as Nurse Gillwick passed her wand over him. "How long was I out?"

"All day yesterday. It's Sunday morning."

"What!?" he blurted. That sent another spear of pain through his head.

"Calm down, Mister O'Bannon. You're still not one hundred percent. Probably by tomorrow you should be well enough to be released. In the meantime, I want you to get plenty of rest. You can read your get well cards while I get a servant elf to bring up your breakfast."

"Yeah. Thanks."

Nurse Gillwick headed off. O'Bannon rolled on his side and spotted several handmade cards on the nightstand. The first one he picked up was from Rosa, Jared and Artimus. Rosa. Didn't she yell at him before he blacked out?

Another card had the signatures of the returning players of the Blazenrowe hockey team . . . all of them except Marcel Dubuque. Headmistress Esmeralda even sent him a card, as did Miss Venatici, which put a huge smile on his face.

The last card had a row of smiling, yellow flowers waving at him. When O'Bannon opened it, more little yellow flowers formed the words GET WELL SOON.

His eyes fell to the writing at the bottom.

_I hope you're feeling better. I'll be thinking of you._

_Take care._

_Rana._

O'Bannon swallowed. Rana Rollingsworth's beautiful face pushed past the hazy memories of the hockey tryouts. His heart beat faster.

_You have got to ask this girl out._

He so wanted to bolt out of bed and dash back to Blazenrowe Hall to find Rana. But a healthy fear of Nurse Gillwick made him stay put. Gillwick was a pretty decent person . . . unless you didn't follow her instructions to the letter. Then . . . well, he'd rather pick a fight with a gang of Death Eaters than face her wrath.

He grunted and laid back on his pillow. O'Bannon glared at the ceiling, thinking of all the time friggin' Gregory Lancemore would have to put his moves on Rana while he was laid up here.

He continued to stew over the thought even as a servant elf brought him his breakfast tray. The little creature stood by his bed, waiting for his tip.

"Um, sorry, man. All my money's back in my room. Can I get you later?"

The elf sneered and dropped the tray on the floor. The goblet of water on it toppled over.

"Disrespect," the elf growled as he stalked off. "What do they teach children these days? Expecting us elves to work for free."

O'Bannon muttered curses under his breath as he leaned down to pick up the tray and whatever food did not spill onto the floor.

_Damn, I miss the English house elves._

He was halfway done with his breakfast when Rosa, Jared and Artimus entered the infirmary.

"Hey, guys," O'Bannon said after he swallowed the last bit of his blueberry muffin.

"Welcome back to the land of consciousness," Jared grinned at him.

"How are you feeling?" Artimus asked.

"My head feels like a troll is stomping on it, but Nurse Gillwick thinks I should be totally fine by tomorrow. Say, did Isaac really bash me on the head with his stick?"

All three nodded.

"I'm so sorry, Jimmy." Rosa lowered her eyes. "When he picked up his stick I had no idea . . . and it happened so fast. I wish I could have stopped it."

"Quit blaming yourself, Rosa. He probably took everyone by surprise."

"You can say that, man," said Jared.

"So where is he?" O'Bannon tried to force a picture in his mind of his hands around Isaac's throat, but just couldn't. Isaac had always been friendly toward him . . . until yesterday.

"He's back home in Vermont." Artimus edged over to the nightstand. "Headmistress Esmeralda suspended him for two weeks. I heard she yelled at him for a good half-hour before his parents Floo in to take him home."

"And he's not the only one who got chucked out of here." Rosa sat on the edge of the bed. "Duncan Maloney got suspended for fighting, too."

"Duncan Maloney?" O'Bannon drew his head back in surprise. He couldn't believe the soft-spoken Muggle-born kid had been in a fight. "How did that happen?"

Jared answered. "You know how Merak Mather's been razzing him for years 'cause Maloney comes from a poor family? Well, apparently he'd had enough. Coldcocked Mather right in the middle of the Ardenturo Hall parlor. Broke his damn jaw. That's how he wound up here."

Jared nodded to the row across from them. O'Bannon gazed at the bed containing the infirmary's other occupant, who still slept. He had no idea that was Merak Mather.

"This is insane." Artimus shook his head. "I mean, sure all the upperclassmen here are stressed out and arguing with one another. But to start fighting . . .?"

"I know." Rosa looked over to him. "In all our time here I can't remember people being stressed out this bad."

"Yeah." O'Bannon rubbed his throbbing forehead. "Maybe Nurse Gillwick should start handing out chill pills."

A thoughtful look fell over Rosa's face. "Well, the Halloween Dance is coming up in a few weeks. Maybe that will help everyone unwind."

"Unless the whole school kills one another before then," Jared scoffed.

Rosa sneered at her cousin, then looked back at O'Bannon. "Speaking of the Halloween Dance, you oughta ask Rana to it."

"Yeah, and do it before she succumbs to Gregory Lancemore's irresistible charms." Jared gave Rosa a wry grin. "Just ask Rosa. She knows what that's like."

"Go suck a troll's butt." She glared at Jared.

O'Bannon's body tensed. Anger flooded his insides. He clearly saw Lancemore, smiling and laying all sorts of tacky pick-up lines on Rana . . . and Rana eating them up.

"Jimmy? Jimmy!"

His head snapped toward Rosa. "Huh?"

"Hey, you okay? You looked like you were spacing out."

"Oh. Oh no. I'm good. No, you're right. Soon as I'm outta here, I'm gonna ask Rana to the dance."

Rosa beamed and grasped O'Bannon's shoulder. "That's great. I think you guys will make a great couple."

"Sorry, but I'm going to have to break up this little party." Nurse Gillwick headed toward them. "You've seen him, you've talked to him, and you know he's alive and well. But Mister O'Bannon needs his rest, so I'm afraid you'll have to leave."

Rosa, Jared and Artimus all frowned, but they knew better than to argue with Nurse Gillwick, especially when she was in mother hen mode.

"See you later, Jimmy." Rosa gave him a friendly peck on the cheek.

"Yeah. Take care, Jimmy." Artimus shook his hand.

"Catch you later, bro." Jared tapped knuckles with O'Bannon. He then reached into his robes' inside pocket. "By the way, in case you get hungry laying here all day . . ."

Jared flipped O'Bannon a small box of candy.

"Thanks, man. You're awesome."

"I try." Jared backed away from the bed and pointed to the candy. "Enjoy."

The three left the infirmary.

O'Bannon smiled, looking at the box. Rosa's words floated through his pain-wracked head. How she couldn't remember upperclassmen being so stressed out during all their years at Salem.

He couldn't remember it either . . . unless that blow to the head scrambled his memory circuits.

_I still can't believe Isaac hit me._ Neither could he believe Duncan Maloney belted Merak Mather . . . not that he felt bad about Mather getting laid out. Hell, there'd been plenty of times in the past he wanted to belt the snob. But for Maloney to do it . . . O'Bannon had never seen the kid get angry, much less throw a punch at someone.

He groaned. His head hurt too much to come up with reasons for the anger and discontent that gripped Salem. Instead he settled back in bed and opened the candy box. He picked up a piece of toffee and popped it in his mouth. His eyes widened. This was really good.

As soon as he swallowed it he went for another piece. O'Bannon went to put it in his mouth when he suddenly stopped. His tongue felt funny, like something was pushing against it. He grimaced. His cheeks puffed up. He opened his mouth to call for Nurse Gillwick.

O'Bannon's tongue spilled from his mouth, four times its original size, and so very, very heavy.

"Uhhh . . . Uhhhhh!"

_What the hell!?_

He gasped when the realization struck him. He'd seen this sort of thing before, back in England.

He'd just eaten a Ton Tongue Toffee.

A small card jumped out of the box, hovered in front of O'Bannon, and opened up. He read the note inside.

_Hey Jimmy,_

_You should have done a better job of disposing of that Surprising Snackbox. We copied down the mailing address for your friends Fred and George and ordered a box of Ton Tongue Toffees. They even threw in a box of Fainting Fancies for free for being their first overseas customers._

_Enjoy your "just desserts," hee-hee._

_Jared & Rosa_

O'Bannon swatted the card out of the air. He had a litany of curses to spew about his "friends," but it instead came out as, "Uhhh-Uh Uh-Uh-Uh Uh-Uh!"

"For Merlin's Sake, Mister O'Bannon." Nurse Gillwick stomped toward him. "What are you carrying on ab . . ."

Her eyes widened at the sight of O'Bannon's enlarged tongue.

"What in the name of Bartholomew Blazenrowe happened to you?"

O'Bannon pointed to his tongue, then to the box. "Uh-Uh Uh-Uh Uh Uh-Uh! Uh Uh-Uh Uh Uh Uh Uh-Uh!"

"Oh, your friends gave you some prank candy, eh?" Gillwick folded her arms and grinned evilly. "Well, after what you did I can't say I blame them. I mean, turning poor Rosa into a human elephant."

"Uh Uh-Uhhhh!" O'Bannon flailed his arms.

"Oh, don't worry, Mister O'Bannon. I've seen all sorts of prank candies in my time. The effects will wear off in a few hours. Or in some cases, a day. Maybe this will teach you not to pull practical jokes on your best friends."

Without another word, Nurse Gillwick spun on her heel and proceeded back to her office.

"UHHHHHH!!!" O'Bannon dropped his head onto the pillow and slapped his hands over his face. How could he be so stupid to accept candy from Jared after getting him and Rosa with that Surprising Snackbox? And Fred and George! He couldn't believe they'd send Jared and Rosa Ton Tongue Toffees to give to . . . wait a minute. This _was_ Fred and George Weasley. Of course they'd do something like that.

He spent the next five minutes plotting revenge on his four friends when he heard footsteps entering the infirmary. O'Bannon started to sit up.

"Jimmy. I heard you were awake and . . ."

He froze when he saw Rana Rollingsworth halt halfway to his bed.

_Oh no. No, no no!_

"Jimmy! Merlin's Beard, what happened to you?"

He wanted to say, "Jared gave me a box of Ton Tongue Toffees." Instead he pointed to the box and emitted unintelligible moans.

"Oh no." She shot him a sympathetic look. "After what Isaac did to you, someone gave you some joke candy?"

"Uh-Uhhh." O'Bannon nodded, wishing all sorts of nasty curses to befall Jared Diaz.

"You poor thing." Rana walked over to him and placed a gentle hand on O'Bannon's shoulder. He felt himself melt at her touch.

"I'm just glad you're all right. Despite . . . this." She stared at his huge tongue and made a face. "Everyone still can't believe Isaac hit you."

"Uh Uhhh."

"Did you like the card I sent you?"

"Uh-Uhh!" O'Bannon nodded enthusiastically.

"I'm glad. Oh look, I'll let you get some rest. I'll talk to you later when this thing wears off."

With a sweet smile, Rana backed away from the bed.

O'Bannon's heart fell. He wanted her to stay . . . all day. Damn Jared and Rosa. Damn Fred and George and their stupid toffees.

Rana started to turn.

_Say it! Just take your time, and say, "Rana, will you go with me to the Halloween Dance."_

"Uh-Uh. Uh Uhh Uh Uh Uh Uh Uh Uhh-Uh-Uhhh Uhh."

Rana's face crinkled in a quizzical look. "I'm sorry, what?"

O'Bannon wanted to scream in frustration. Instead he drew a deep breath and said, "Uh Uhh Uh Uh Uh Uh Uh Uhh-Uh-Uhhh Uhh?"

"I'm sorry, Jimmy. I just can't understand you. We can talk when you're better. Bye for now."

Rana left the infirmary.

O'Bannon pounded his mattress. When that did nothing to abate his anger he laid back down, glaring at the ceiling. He wondered if things at Salem could get any worse for him.

_With my luck, they will._

_TO BE CONTINUED_


	7. Chapter 7

"And don't come back to this library until you can behave like civilized human beings!"

Artimus Rand jumped back, narrowly avoiding the door that burst open. Two tall boys stormed out of the faded white colonial-style building that housed the Salem library. Artimus leaped off the walkway, convinced the pair would have bowled him over had he not moved.

"Nice going, jackass!" The dark-haired boy snapped. "Now we're banned from the library!"

The second boy, who had red hair and a large nose, glared at the dark-haired boy. "Well we wouldn't be if you woulda just went along with my idea instead of bitching about it."

"Oh yeah. Like your ideas are all so wonderful."

Artimus watched the two boys stalk off, still yelling at one another. He rubbed the back of his head. _Is it gonna be like this all year?_

He suddenly felt eyes on him. Slowly he rotated his head to the open door. Miss Mulberry, the skinny, tight-faced librarian with thick glasses and black-gray hair tied in a bun, stood in the doorway, arms folded.

"Are you going to be a problem, too?"

"Uh, no ma'am. I'm just here to work on my History project."

Miss Mulberry eyed him suspiciously. For a few seconds, Artimus wondered if she would let him enter.

Finally, she moved aside. Artimus walked through the door, avoiding eye contact with the librarian. He clenched his teeth as he walked past the rows of shelves jammed with old books of various sizes. He still had the feeling of being watched by Miss Mulberry. After what he saw with those two students, she might very well watch him his entire time in the library. Artimus sighed at the thought.

He halted near the section marked GEOGRAPHY and peered round the shelf.

Cecilia Malfoy sat at a desk, looking bored as she stared at an open book.

Artimus chewed on his lower lip. Two weeks ago his heart would be racing frantically being so close to someone related to a Death Eater. But in all the times they'd been together, Cecilia hadn't threatened him at all. That didn't mean she'd been pleasant toward him. Just . . . business-like. Most of their conversations dealt with their project on Magic and the Battle of Trenton. They almost never engaged in small talk, which made it difficult for him to find an opening to dig deeper into Cecilia's and Serinta's real purpose at Salem. It also didn't help that Jimmy was . . . what was the Muggle phrase? Oh yeah, "up his ass" about information regarding Cecilia. What did he think? He'd keep it to himself if she said anything important?

_Still, Jimmy is relying on me, and so far I haven't done anything._

So today he'd try a new tactic. Instead of waiting for Cecilia to give him an opening, he'd try to make one himself . . . by simply being friendly. Maybe it would work. Heck, she didn't seem as horrible as all the other Slytherins Jimmy talked about.

He took a deep breath and headed over to the table.

"Hi, Cecilia."

Cecilia looked up from her book. "Artimus." She nodded without smiling.

Artimus took a seat across from her. His eyes went to a couple of foot-tall figurines standing on the table. One bore the image of America's first Muggle President George Washington. The other was the rotund, balding form of Haldus Hillbibble, leader of the American Wizarding contingent that opposed the British during The Great Break, what the Muggles called the American Revolution.

"Hey, they look nice." He nodded to the figurines. "You did a good job."

"Thank you," Cecilia said flatly.

"Well, my father finally owled me that book with all of Haldus Hillbibble's correspondence with his wife during the Great Break." Artimus pulled out the book from his bag. "There's one in here that has his conversation word-for-word with General Washington just before the Muggle rebels crossed the Delaware River and attacked Trenton. And . . ." He pulled out a piece of parchment. "I have the charm written down that can transfer all those words into the figurines so they can carry out that conversation. I think Miss Venatici will really like it."

"Let's hope so."

"She will. I mean, Miss Venatici's one of the best teachers here. Don't you think so?"

Cecilia leaned back in her chair, folding her arms and staring at Artimus. "Is there some reason you're acting so nice to me, Rand?"

"I just . . . I . . ." Artimus' jaw hung open as he struggled to come up with something to say.

"Let me guess." Cecilia leaned forward, a harsh gaze aimed at Artimus. "O'Bannon put you up to this. What does he think? If you're nice to me I'll let my guard down and mention how I'm plotting to get revenge on him for beating my cousin in some stupid Muggle game back at Hogwarts?"

Goose pimples sprang up all over Artimus' body. His legs quivered. His eyes flickered from one side to the other. He saw no one else in sight.

Artimus' breathing quickened. Under the table he slid his hand over his robes and toward the pocket where he kept his wand. Would he really have to go for it?

_What would Jimmy do? What would Jimmy do?_

Cecilia kept staring at him. The silence became unbearable.

He stopped in mid-breath as the idea hit him. _He'd throw it right back in her face._

"Well . . . g-given what I've hear about your family, that's certainly possible."

Artimus expected Cecilia to draw her wand. His mind raced through every spell he could remember from Defense Against the Dark Arts class. Could he best her? Would he get suspended like Isaac Pinder and Duncan Maloney did for fighting another student?

But Cecilia Malfoy didn't go for her wand. She simply sighed and slumped in her chair. Artimus' eyebrows went up. Of all the reactions he expected from her, this wasn't one of them.

"Do you want to know something about my family, Rand?"

It took Artimus a few moments to respond. "Um . . . okay."

A sour look formed on Cecilia's pale face. "The Malfoys are arrogant, power hungry, bullying, racist pondscum."

Artimus couldn't stop his jaw from dropping.

"Surprised I'd say something like that?" Cecilia continued. "I'm sure after all the stories O'Bannon must have told you about Draco, you probably think all us Malfoys march in lock step, asserting our superiority on the British Wizarding World and swearing our allegiance to the Dark Lord."

Artimus trembled at the mention of the evil wizard.

When he didn't respond, Cecilia went on. "Well he's wrong. Just because your friend had some unpleasant experiences with my cousin at Hogwarts, he thinks that makes him an expert on my family? He doesn't know a bloody thing about the Malfoys."

Artimus drew a breath and found his voice. "So what's wrong with your family?"

Cecilia bit down on her lip for a moment. "It's not my parents, really. It's mainly my Uncle Lucius and Aunt Narcissa. I don't know what it's like in this country, but in Britain, in many circles, blood status counts for just about everything."

Artimus just nodded. That was still true in certain places up and down the East Coast where the majority of the country's oldest wizarding families lived. He'd even seen that first hand from his father, who tolerated half-bloods and looked down his nose at Muggle-borns.

"There are wizarding families in Britain that can trace their lineage back centuries," said Cecilia. "Some over a thousand years, even before Hogwarts was founded. They're fanatical when it comes to clinging to their pureblood heritage. They see Muggle-borns and half-bloods as interlopers in our world, undeserving of the honor of being a witch or wizard. And Merlin help anyone in a family like that who marries outside their blood."

Artimus sat up straighter. "You're not a pureblood?"

Cecilia cast her eyes to the table for a moment. She drew a slow breath. "Not in the strictest sense. My father is a pureblood. My mother . . . both her parents were Muggle-born. And my father, Uncle Lucius' brother, dared to fall in love with her. When he told everyone they were engaged, they were disowned by the rest of the family, cut off from the family fortune. Draco and his parents live in a huge manor, while my family lives in a hovel. Uncle Lucius and Aunt Narcissa can sit on their arses and make money, while my parents have to work menial jobs just to put food on our table."

Every fear and worry Artimus had about Cecilia vanished. He tried to imagine her predicament. It proved very hard for someone like him, brought up in comfort, never having to want his entire life.

"I'm sorry."

Cecilia's face was unreadable. Artimus expected her to snap at him, to spare her his false sympathy . . . which wasn't false at all.

Seconds passed without the British girl speaking. Artimus pressed his fingers together and continued. "You know, my own father doesn't think too highly of Muggle-borns. Says they don't have the skills to be really successful in the Wizarding World, not having grown up in it. But still, I can't imagine him disowning me because I'm friends with Jimmy."

"You're lucky then, Artimus."

For the first time, Cecilia sounded like a human being. Her tone wasn't stiff. He detected true emotion in it. Not the anger and resentment he'd heard a minute earlier. She almost sounded . . . glad for him, that he didn't have to endure the same experiences she did.

She leaned to the right in her chair, staring down at her lap.

"Um . . . are you all right?"

Cecilia sighed and looked up at him. She managed a brief smile. "Yes. I'll be fine. It's just . . . this isn't a pleasant subject to talk about. And it's not like anyone back in England feels sorry for me or my parents. Thanks to Uncle Lucius . . . actually, thanks to a reputation that goes back centuries, most people either fear or hate the Malfoy family. So if one of us gets knocked down a peg or two, it's a cause for celebration."

"I wish there was something I could do." Artimus couldn't think of anything else to say.

"Unless you know a spell to take away Uncle Lucius' money and give it to my parents, there isn't."

Artimus frowned and lowered his head.

"I'm sorry." Cecilia shook her head. "I know you're just trying to be nice. Honestly, I'm not used to people being nice to me, or doing things for me, which is why I'm still perplexed as to why Uncle Lucius convinced the Hogwarts Board of Governors to send me to Salem for a term."

"He did?" Artimus tried to feign surprise, since Jimmy had told him that a couple weeks ago.

Cecilia nodded. "He's up to something. He always is."

Artimus licked his lips. His shoulders tightened. Did he dare ask her? "Um, Cecilia? About you uncle. Is it true what they say? Is he really . . . a Death Eater?" He whispered the name.

"Oh he most certainly is."

Artimus intertwined his fingers to keep his hands from shaking. "And . . . and your parents?"

Cecilia briefly chuckled. "Are you serious? My father married the child of Muggle-borns. That makes him a traitor in the eyes of all pureblood fanatics . . . most especially You-Know-Who."

"So do you believe all the rumors that he's back?"

"I do. I don't care what _The Daily Prophet _says. Besides, I've heard the Ministry of Magic is putting pressure on them to suppress the story and smear anyone who speaks to the contrary, like Harry Potter. I wouldn't be surprised if Uncle Lucius had a hand in all this."

"I'm sure one day your uncle will get what's coming to him."

"Oh, he will. I'm sure of it."

"Really?"

Cecilia nodded. The stony mask Artimus had grown used to seeing over the past two weeks returned to the girl's face. "When I'm done at Hogwarts, I'm going to make it my mission to become rich and successful. And when I've acquired enough power, I'm going to use it to ruin my uncle and his family. Then they can live in a rundown shack while my parents and I dine every night in Malfoy Manor."

Artimus studied the look on her face. This girl was dead serious about getting revenge on her uncle.

He leaned back, still staring at her. He wondered how Jimmy would react when he told him the truth about Cecilia Malfoy.

_TO BE CONTINUED_


	8. Chapter 8

If anything good came out of Jimmy O'Bannon's extended stay in the hospital wing, it gave him a chance to tackle the mountain of homework his teachers had gleefully piled on him. Now that mountain had become . . . well, maybe not a molehill, but something in-between. At least he had a bit of free time to catch up on his correspondence.

First he wrote to Mom and Dad, saying the usual stuff. _"Everything's fine at Salem . . . Lots of homework to do . . . blah, blah, blah."_ Just like with Voldemort's return and Cedric Diggory's death, he wasn't about to mention anything having to do with Slytherins at school or getting his brains scrambled by Isaac Pinder. What his parents didn't know they couldn't freak out about.

Next he wrote to Mireet Miradeaux at Beauxbatons. With her he got more candid, expressing his concern over Cecilia's and Serinta's presence and how stressed out everyone at Salem seemed.

He mentioned the same things in his letter to Fred and George. O'Bannon was halfway done with it when Artimus entered their dorm room.

"Hey, Art." O'Bannon turned in his seat.

"Hey, Jimmy." Artimus shut the door behind him. "How are you feeling?"

"My head tingles a bit, but Nurse Gillwick said I was well enough to get kicked loose. She wants me to wait a day or two before going back on the ice, though."

"Good, good." Artimus shuffled toward his desk, grabbed the chair and brought it over to O'Bannon's desk.

"Something on your mind, buddy?"

Artimus blew out his cheeks. "Oh yeah."

He took out his wand and cast a Muffling Charm on the room. O'Bannon held his breath and slid his chair around to face Artimus. This could only mean one thing.

His friend had big news about the Slytherin hags.

"So what's up?" O'Bannon couldn't hide the anxiousness in his voice.

Artimus paused. "I had a pretty lengthy conversation with Cecilia Malfoy in the library."

"And . . ." O'Bannon leaned forward.

"Well . . ." Artimus worked his jaw from side-to-side. "You're probably gonna be surprised by this. But . . . I know you didn't have any good experiences with the Slytherins while you were at Hogwarts, but . . . Cecilia actually doesn't seem that bad."

O'Bannon blinked. He ran Artimus' words through his head. _"Cecilia actually doesn't seem that bad."_

"Huh?"

"I'm serious, Jimmy. She told me her grandparents on her mother's side are both Muggle-born. It caused this big scandal in her family. The rest of the Malfoys wound up disowning them, cut them off from the family fortune. She despises Draco and his parents. I . . . I don't know. I feel bad for her."

O'Bannon leaned back in his seat. Artimus stared at him, his eyes pleading with O'Bannon to believe him.

"I don't know, man." He shook his head. "What if she's lying?"

"She's not," Artimus blurted.

"Art, all due respect man, I was around those people for a year. You don't know them like I do."

"She's different from the ones you talked about. Trust me on this."

O'Bannon chewed on his lip. He'd like to trust Artimus on this. But he never saw first hand how the Slytherins acted. Lying, cheating, abusing other students, saying the word "Mudblood" as casually as regular people say the word "the."

"Do you know what one of the attributes is that gets someone sorted into Slytherin?"

"According to you, it's being an asshole."

O'Bannon grinned briefly. "Yeah, there's that. But one thing that all Slytherins have in common is cunning. They'll say anything, do anything, to achieve their goal. Even make up some bullcrap sob story to make you feel sorry for them."

"I don't think it was a bullcrap story." Artimus' voice had a noticeable edge.

"Think about it. If Fred and George's theory is right, and Draco's dad did send Cecilia and Serinta here to mess with me because of that hockey game, wouldn't it make sense for one of them to try and get close to a friend of mine? Make you think she's on our side and then . . . _wham!"_ O'Bannon punched his open palm.

The corners of Artimus' nose wrinkled. "Yeah. And of course, it would be me since I'm the dumbest friend you have."

"I never said you were dumb." O'Bannon's arms shot up over his head. "I'm just saying you don't know these Slytherins like I do."

"Of course not. I mean, you are the great Hogwarts expert after all."

"Art, what the hell's gotten into you?"

"What the hell's gotten into you?" Artimus sprang out of his chair. "You asked me to find out anything I could about Cecilia. But when I do, and when it turns out she's not the epitome of evil like you wanted her to be, I all of the sudden have no idea what I'm talking about!"

"For God's sake, will you be reasonable?" Now O'Bannon stood.

Artimus responded with a sardonic laugh. "Look who's talking."

He turned away from O'Bannon and stomped toward the door. "Maybe you should get someone else to do you're dirty work if you don't think I'm up to it."

"Art!"

Artimus ignored him. He flung open the door and bolted into the hallway . . . almost running over Jared.

"Whoa! Art. You okay?"

O'Bannon heard no reply from Artimus.

Jared turned to him. "What is it you told me the kids at Hogwarts say? 'Did you two have a row?'" He said that last part with a horrible British accent.

O'Bannon just glared at him.

"Hey. Peace, man." Jared held up both hands and entered the room. "So what was all that about?"

O'Bannon detailed his argument with Artimus. When he finished, Jared slowly bobbed his head from side-to-side.

"Um, Jimmy. Do you promise not to go off on me if I give you my opinion?"

"Yeah, sure."

Jared paused a second before continuing. "Well, just maybe you should consider the possibility that Cecilia is telling the truth."

O'Bannon's growl could have matched that of a dragon.

"Hey, I'm not saying I believe her. I'm just saying we should consider it. Who knows? If she is telling the truth and she does hate the rest of the Malfoy family, maybe we could turn her into an ally."

O'Bannon looked to the window, watching the branches of a tree swaying in the breeze. Jared did have a good point. A spy in the Malfoy family would be a huge benefit for the Order of the Phoenix and their American counterparts, the Guild of the Light.

_But that would only be possible _if_ Cecilia's telling the truth._

Considering she was a Slytherin _and _a Malfoy, that was a Hungarian Horntail-sized "if."

"All right. I'll consider it. But Cecilia Malfoy telling the truth is not something I'd bet the ranch and the dog on."

Jared gave him a queer look. O'Bannon rolled his eyes and explained the old Muggle phrase to him.

"So," Jared said. "You gonna go make nice with Artimus?"

"I will later. Probably best to let him cool off right now."

"Sounds good to me. Now that that's settled, let's get Rosa and head to dinner. I'm friggin' starving."

They headed for the girls' dormitory, where they found Rosa in her room. O'Bannon filled her in about hiss argument with Artimus as they walked to the Communal Hall.

"Well, maybe you should have given his point of view a little more consideration," Rosa said, constantly scanning around her for any sign of the perverted garden gnome Feetish.

"All I said was I have more experience dealing with Slytherins than he did. It was just a fact. I wasn't implying he was an idiot."

"Well, sometimes you do tend to . . ."

"Hey, let's not rehash this, okay?" Jared turned to them. "It's not like this is the first time any of us have argued. Artimus will cool off, you'll both apologize, and peace will reign over Salem."

Rosa frowned. "Maybe peace in our little corner. Did you know today I had to stop Hillary Hysinth from hexing Emile Latendresse. Hillary was going on about how Emile keeps flaunting all her expensive jewelry around the not-so well-to-do students."

"Oh yeah, that's a reason to hex someone." O'Bannon shook his head.

"What do you want, man? Girls are insane." Jared chuckled.

Rosa punched him in the shoulder.

They entered the Communal Hall and sat at one of the middle tables. O'Bannon started to cut into a hunk of roast pheasant when his ears picked up familiar female laughter from the Communal Hall's entrance. He whipped his head around.

Rana Rollingsworth nearly stumbled she was laughing so hard.

"That has to be the funniest thing I've ever heard," she said to the boy next to her.

That boy was Gregory Lancemore.

O'Bannon clenched his knife tightly. His eyes narrowed on Lancemore as he and Rana walked between the crowded tables. A maelstrom of fear and anger battered his insides.

_Are they together?_ No, they can't be. If they were, Rana wouldn't have sent him the sort of get well card she did.

But what if Lancemore had said something, done something, to win her over after she sent it?

_Son-of-a-bitch._

"Hi, Jimmy." She smiled wide and waved to him as she neared. "You feeling better?"

"Fine," he answered through clenched teeth, his focus more on the grinning Gregory Lancemore than on Rana.

"Glad to hear it," Lancemore said. "I heard Isaac really nailed you."

O'Bannon nodded, his lips tightening. _They can't be together. They can't be together._

He'd know that for sure if he asked Rana to the Halloween Dance. But that was something he had to do when they were alone, not here in the Communal Hall, not with most of the students and faculty watching.

Rana and Lancemore walked past him.

"Hey, there's a spot over there." Lancemore pointed to a table further down . . . and put a hand on Rana's back.

"That's it." O'Bannon slammed down his knife and got up.

"Problem, Jimmy?" Jared stared at him with a concerned expression.

He ignored his friend and started over to Rana and Lancemore, fists balled, his breaths coming quicker.

"Rana," he called out just as she started to sit down.

She stopped and looked around Lancemore. "Yes, Jimmy?"

He halted a couple feet from them, trying to block out Lancemore from his vision.

"Will you go to the Halloween Dance with me?"

For a split second, O'Bannon thought he'd been hit with a Body-Bind Curse. He couldn't move, couldn't breathe. He felt so cold.

Finally he managed to move his eyes. Students from one end of the Communal Hall to the other stared at him. So did everyone at the faculty table, including Miss Venatici and Headmistress Esmeralda.

_Oh crap. What did you do, O'Bannon?_ He could just picture Rana saying, "I'm sorry, Jimmy, but I'm going with Gregory."

Tremors took hold of his arms and legs. He was going to get turned down in front of the entire school. Why not? Nothing had gone right for him since he returned to Salem. Nobody believed him about Voldemort's return, Isaac Pinder bashed him over the head with a hockey stick, and one of his best friends was pissed at him.

Now the girl he really liked was going to tell him no, tell him she was going with this schmuck Gregory Lancemore.

"I'd love to."

O'Bannon blinked. He gazed dumbfounded at Rana's pretty face. "I'm sorry, what?"

Rana giggled. "I said I'd love to go to the dance with you. Thanks for asking me."

His legs quivered, more from shock than anything else. She said yes. She actually said yes. Something actually went his way.

"Um . . . great . . . great." _Crap, what do I say now?_ "I can't wait. Looking forward to it . . . um, I'll catch you after dinner."

"You got it." Rana gave him another warm smile.

O'Bannon looked over his shoulder. Jared smiled slyly and gave him a thumbs-up. Rosa grinned wide and grasped her cousin's shoulders.

When he turned back around, he noticed a scornful look on Gregory Lancemore's face.

O'Bannon locked eyes with him and smirked. _Screw you, Lancemore. This time I got the girl._

* * *

_TO BE CONTINUED_


	9. Chapter 9

**_DISCLAIMER: I DON'T OWN THE HARRY POTTER UNIVERSE, BUT THE CHARACTERS AT THE SALEM WITCHES INSTITUTE ARE MY OWN CREATION._**

* * *

Artimus Rand couldn't have been happier over Jimmy O'Bannon's budding relationship with Rana Rollingsworth. If for no other reason, it improved his mood immensely. Since he asked her out three weeks ago, Jimmy stopped sulking over the fact few at Salem believed him about You-Know-Who's return. He appeared in better spirits when coming back from hockey practices . . .

. . . and best of all, he didn't pester him every damn day about Cecilia.

"Just let me know if she does anything suspicious," was the last thing Jimmy said on the subject.

That had been six days ago.

So far, Cecilia hadn't done anything that caused him concern. Actually, things between them had grown more cordial since that day Cecilia revealed her family problems. They actually talked about stuff that had nothing to do with their History of Magic project. Things like why Salem didn't sort students like Hogwarts did, or comparing and contrasting Ollivander's wands to those of his American counterpart, Australius. Artimus didn't know if he could consider her a friend. He still sensed some self-imposed distance by the Slytherin girl toward him. But at least he no longer feared Cecilia would hex him.

He wanted to tell Jimmy all this, but kept it to himself. Improved mood or not, the guy's eyes glowed with white hot flames whenever anyone mentioned the word "Slytherin" around him. They'd long since moved past that argument regarding Cecilia. Why risk a repeat?

Artimus dug his hands into his coat pockets as he neared the large wooden bleachers that circled the hockey pond. He shuffled forward with the line of students, staring over their heads at the ice. The blue and gold uniformed Blazenrowe players went through their pre-game warm-ups, as did the silver and white-clad Ardenturo players on the opposite end of the rink.

The corners of Artimus' mouth crinkled as he climbed the steps toward the top of a bleacher overlooking center ice. He much preferred attending Quidditch games than hockey. At least with Quidditch he could sit with Jimmy, Rosa and Jared. But since all three played for Blazenrowe Hall, Artimus was left to fend for himself.

_Seven years here, and you'd think I'd have more friends._

Alone in a crowd. That's how he felt at these hockey games. Even when he sat next to classmates he knew, they would usually talk amongst themselves and act like he wasn't even there.

_Why? It's not like I'm mean or hideous-looking._

He knew some students regarded him as a snob just because he came from an old, rich family. But even many rich students, who really did act like snobs, didn't like him for various reasons. Either his family wasn't as wealthy as theirs, or he associated with a "lower class" of people, or he just didn't have the look of someone from the upper crust of the Wizarding World.

Artimus looked back at the ice and scanned the uniforms until he glimpsed the appropriate numbers. "12" for Rosa, "40" for Jared, and "4" for Jimmy. He held his breath for a moment, wondering how lonely he'd be if he didn't have those three in his life. Sometimes he wondered if maybe they were the reason he didn't have many other friends. Not that those three did anything to discourage that. In fact, they'd encouraged him to make new friends since their First Year. But he never seemed to manage it. Jimmy, Rosa and Jared were like his security blanket. He knew they gave a damn about him, knew they would always be there for him. Other people were a mystery. Could he have the sort of friendship with others that he did with Jimmy, Jared and Rosa? Could he depend on new friends the same way he could those three?

Would one of those new friends stab him in the back?

He sighed, thinking of all the friends Jimmy made during his year at Hogwarts. From the way he talked, the Weasleys, Lee Jordan, Angelina Johnson and that French girl Mireet became as close with Jimmy as he, Rosa and Jared were to him.

_Why can't it be that easy for me?_

Artimus found a seat near the top. He was just about to sit when he heard a thin dark-skinned girl with short hair sitting one row below him say, "I can't believe you haven't kissed Jimmy yet."

His ears perked up at the mention of his friend. He suddenly recognized the dark-skinned girl . . . Mira Quirk.

_And she's friends with . . ._

He flicked his eyes to the girl next to Mira.

It was Rana Rollingsworth.

"I know. It's just . . . after what happened with Darius, I want to take things a bit slow. And Jimmy understands. That's one of the reasons I like him."

"I think you're asking for trouble," said the haughty-looking girl with long, curled brown hair to Rana's left.

"Oh for Merlin's Sake, Beatrice." Rana rolled her eyes. "Not this again."

"C'mon, Rana. If the guy is going to spread lies about You-Know-Who coming back, what else is he capable of?"

"Who says he's lying?"

"Have you been reading _The All-Seeing Eye?"_

Rana scowled. "I'll take Jimmy's word over that rag any day."

Beatrice shook her head. Artimus thought he heard her mutter, "Gullible."

That's when Rana twisted around and made eye contact with Artimus. Surprise flashed over her face.

"Oh. Artimus. Hi."

He swallowed. Did Rana think he'd been eavesdropping on her?

"Um . . . hey, Rana. How are you doing?"

"Fine. Looking forward to the game. Jimmy seems pretty pleased with how the team looks, even if they are a little young."

"Yeah, that's what he tells me."

Artimus tried to think of something else to say to keep the conversation going. Nothing, however, came to mind.

After several seconds of silence, Rana grinned. "Well, let's hope for a win."

"Yeah. Sure."

She gave him another smile and resumed her conversation with Beatrice and Mira.

Artimus' shoulders sagged. He clasped his hands between his legs and gazed at the rink. Jimmy was waving over the Blazenrowe players to the bench.

"Are you sitting with anyone?"

His head snapped up at the sound of the familiar voice.

Cecilia Malfoy stood over him.

"Um . . . Um, no. Please."

Without a word, she sat next to him.

Artimus shifted in his seat. "I'm surprised to see you here."

Cecilia shrugged. "There isn't much else going on today. It's better than just sitting in my room."

"What about your friend? Is she here?"

"Hmm? Oh, you mean Serinta. No she's back at her room, reading that book we're using. _Washington's Wizards._ Actually, she's been borrowing quite a few of my books. I didn't realize she was so fascinated with American Wizarding History."

Artimus just nodded.

Silence hung between them. After licking his lips, he turned back to Cecilia. "So, did you go to that game Jimmy put together at Hogwarts last year?"

"Of course. I wouldn't miss an opportunity to see someone embarrass my cousin Draco." A wry grin crossed Cecilia's lips.

Artimus' heart fluttered. With that grin Cecilia actually looked . . . sexy.

"Actually, I enjoyed the game more than I thought," she continued. "And not just because Draco lost. Hockey's almost like Quidditch, only on ice instead of in the air. Don't you agree?"

"Yeah."

Any further conversation was interrupted by Headmistress Esmeralda welcoming everyone to the first hockey game of the year. She turned the magical microphone over to the cherubic, mop-topped Horace Harkington, who'd been calling the hockey games at Salem for the past three years.

He introduced the Ardenturo team first. Nearly everyone in the stands who didn't live in that dorm booed.

Cheers and applause filled the open air arena when Blazenrowe was introduced.

"Now your starting line-up for Blazenrowe Hall. Center, Number Eight, Terrance Kirby . . . Right Wing, Number Twenty-One, Claude Tribbett . . . Left Wing, and Team Captain, Number Four, Jimmy O'Bannon!"

Rana shot out of her seat, clapping and cheering fervently. Mira imitated her.

Beatrice stayed put, her hands on her knees.

Artimus looked around as he clapped. His face crinkled in astonishment.

People were booing Jimmy . . . and not just the Ardenturo supporters. Those who didn't vocalize their displeasure just sat with folded arms and stony expressions.

_Aw, man._ Were people still pissed at Jimmy for talking about You-Know-Who's return? He'd barely mentioned it for weeks, once he finally took Rosa's advice to keep it on the low down or however that Muggle phrase went.

"Your friend doesn't seem too popular."

Artimus turned to Cecilia. He tried to read her face. Did that make her happy? Did she feel a bit of sympathy toward him? Did she not care one way or the other?

The Slytherin's face remained an unreadable mask.

Jimmy skated to center ice for the face-off, with the Ardenturo captain, Aquila Allstadt, across from him.

The referee dropped the puck. Sticks smacked together. Jimmy won the puck and crossed it to Tribbett on his left.

Ten seconds later, Marcel Dubuque and Ardenturo left winger Leland Connor dropped the gloves and battered each other with their fists.

As both players were taken to the penalty box for five minute fighting majors, Jimmy skated up to Dubuque, arms extended. His body language was clear. _"What the hell was that about?"_

"I think we're gonna be in for a tough game," Artimus said.

Cecilia glanced at him. "I think that's rather obvious."

Artimus couldn't count how many players got slammed into the boards in the first ten minutes. The penalty box never seemed empty, what with all the tripping and hooking and roughing and interference calls.

With eight minutes left in the first period, Rosa scored on a four-on-three power play, giving Blazenrowe a 1-0 lead.

Ardenturo scored two unanswered goals and took the lead into the locker room for the first intermission.

As both teams took the ice for the second period, Artimus noticed lots of harsh gazes being exchanged. Not just from Blazenrowe to Ardenturo and vice versa, but also among the Blazenrowe players themselves.

If the first period had been physical, the second was downright sloppy. Blazenrowe players like Marcel Dubuque and Terrance Kirby took shots at bad angles, not even coming close to the net. Two Blazenrowe players stood unmoving as they watched a loose puck trickle between them.

"Ardenturo's Penelope Hale blasts in between Dubuque and Kirby and takes the puck!" Harkington's voice boomed throughout the rink. "Boy, were those two asleep at the switch. Hale rears back, shots . . . SCOOOOORE! Right over the shoulder of Blazenrowe goalie Cecil Marks!"

Twice Artimus saw Jimmy with a clear look at the net, screaming for Dubuque to pass him the puck. Twice Dubuque ignored him and took the shot himself, hitting the side of the net the first time and missing it completely the second time.

"If O'Bannon's the captain, shouldn't his teammates listen to him?" Sarcasm covered Cecilia's words.

Artimus shot her a momentary glare.

Claude Tribbett also ignored Jimmy when he was open in the closing minutes of the second period and took a shot that bounced off one of the Ardenturo players. Jimmy slammed the blade of his stick on the ice as he took off after a couple Ardenturo forwards who worked the puck up ice. No one from Blazenrowe caught up with them before they scored.

Ardenturo added another goal and took a 5-1 lead going into the second intermission. Jimmy waved emphatically for his team to follow him into the locker room. Artimus caught Dubuque and a few other Blazenrowe players glowering at Jimmy.

"You're friend is off to an impressive start as captain," Cecilia quipped.

A low growl percolated in Artimus' throat. He snapped his head in Cecilia's direction. "Is there some sort of problem you have with Jimmy?"

Cecilia raised her eyebrows. A hint of a smile traced her lips. "My, you certainly are defensive when it comes to him, aren't you?"

"I'm sure he's doing his best out there. You don't have to pick on him."

"Who says I'm picking on him? I feel I'm making some valid observations."

Artimus snorted and turned away.

"He must have done something notable to instill this kind of loyalty in you," Cecilia said.

"He's my best friend."

"How did that happen?"

Artimus gave her a sideways glance. "Why do you want to know?"

"I'm just curious how two people with vastly different personalities could become friends."

Artimus stared at his shoes. Did he really want to answer that? He always felt embarrassed whenever he talked about his first couple months at Salem.

_It was a while ago. And if it will make her understand what a cool guy Jimmy is . . ._

"During my First Year, I . . . I used to get bullied a lot. When someone came up with a new hex, they'd try it out on me. One time someone hexed me in the middle of Herbology Class and gave me big, bulging goldfish eyes. Everyone laughed at me . . . except Jimmy. Anyway, one day I got cornered by a couple Third Years who dragged me behind some trees near the lake and started beating me up. Jimmy happened to see it and came charging in. He tackled one of the guys, and this guy was probably twice Jimmy's size. But Jimmy started wailing on him, bloodied his nose and gave him a black eye. The second guy just ran away. Me and Jimmy have been friends ever since."

"And Jimmy didn't know you before this?"

Artimus shook his head. "No. We never even spoke until that day."

Cecilia canted her head. "So why would he come to the aid of a total stranger?"

"When I asked, he just said he didn't like bullies."

"How noble of him."

Artimus raised an eyebrow at the girl's tone. What the hell did she have against Jimmy?

"So, has Jimmy always been popular here?" Cecilia asked. "I mean, before he started going on about You-Know-Who being back?"

"Well, yeah. He's always been a great hockey player. Most people say he's a nice guy."

"And those other two you're always with. Rosa and Jared, I believe?"

"Yeah, most people here like them."

Cecilia nodded, staring straight ahead as one of the referees used a spell to smooth out the ice surface. "But you're not popular."

"No. I don't know, for some reason I've had a hard time making friends." He pressed his lips together tightly. Why was he confessing this to Cecilia?

The British girl turned to him, again her smooth, pale face unreadable. "So how does a boy who isn't popular wind up with three people who are?"

Artimus opened his mouth to answer . . . and froze. His mind drifted back to his First Year, how he'd been accepted by those three, how they made him feel wanted, how whenever things got really bad, he knew he could always turn to them.

But all he could get out of his mouth was a simple, "I just did."

"And you're sure you really are their friend?"

"Of course I am," he snapped. "What the hell kind of question is that?"

Cecilia lifted her head slightly, her eyes still locked onto his. "Did you ever think there was another reason those three let you hang around them?"

Artimus' brow furrowed. He didn't like that last bit. _" . . . let you hang around them?"_

"What are you talking about?"

"It's my experience that people like that like to have, no offense, people like you around them. Fawning over them . . ."

"I don't fawn over Jimmy," Artimus said defensively.

"Ha! The way you were defending him it sounds like he can do no wrong in your eyes."

Sharp breaths shot out Artimus' nose. Yeah, Jimmy was good friend. But he didn't build an altar in his honor like Cecilia seemed to imply.

"As I was saying," Cecilia continued. "People like them like having people like you around because it makes them feel superior."

"You don't know what you're talking about."

"Don't I? I've seen it at Hogwarts. Draco has his two sycophants Crabbe and Goyle following him about all the time, obeying his every command like they were dogs. Even Harry Potter, famous, heroic Harry Potter, keeps an utterly useless toerag like Ron Weasley at his side so he can feel better about himself."

"That's a lie," Artimus snapped. "Jimmy said those two were best friends."

He noticed a few students turn his way . . . including Rana Rollingsworth. He glanced around, his face turning red, as much from anger as embarrassment.

He pushed off his seat. "Excuse me." Artimus shuffled past a few sitting students and stomped down the steps.

Jimmy had been right all along. Cecilia was like every other Slytherin. Trying to turn him against his friends. Maybe that was her real purpose at Salem. While most of the school turned its back on Jimmy, he, Rosa and Jared still stuck by him.

What would happen if someone drove a wedge between them?

Artimus reached the bottom of the steps and stood there, searching the stands for another empty seat.

"Artimus!"

He groaned when he saw Cecilia bounding down the steps toward him. He started to walk away.

"Artimus, wait."

"For what?" He whirled around, face contorted by anger. "For you to spew more lies about my friends?"

"I'm not spewing lies. I'm just trying to give you another perspective."

Artimus folded his arms. "And what reason do you have for that?"

For the first time he noticed cracks in Cecilia's stony mask. She bit her bottom lip. Her gaze dropped to the ground. She clenched her jaw for a moment and looked up at him.

"Because I know what it's like to be an outcast."

Artimus scoffed. "I'm not an outcast. I have friends."

"Only three."

"Yeah, well . . . there are other people I talk to. And . . . and I did have a girlfriend. Last year. Rosa set me up with her."

Cecilia cocked an eyebrow. "What, she doesn't trust you to find your own girlfriend?"

"She did it because she cares about me."

"Does she really? Do any of them really care about you?"

"Of course they do."

Cecilia took a step closer to him. "Or maybe they just like having someone to wrap around their finger. Tell me, when your friends decide to go somewhere or do something, do you always go along with them?"

"Yeah."

"And what about you? When you make a suggestion to go somewhere or do something, do they go along with you?"

"Sometimes."

"Ah . . . sometimes." Cecilia nodded slowly. "And whenever Jimmy or Rosa or Jared come up with an idea or an opinion, do you always agree with them?"

"Yeah, most of the time."

"And what about your opinions? Do they ever give anything you say credence?"

Artimus' mouth open. Again he found himself staring in silence at Cecilia. He thought back to his argument with Jimmy. He'd told him all about how Cecilia opened up to him, saying how she and her parents had been ostracized by the Malfoy family. But he simply dismissed it as lies.

Anger swelled within Artimus. Dammit, _he'd_ been face-to-face with Cecilia, not Jimmy. Why couldn't he take his word for it that she was telling the truth?

_No. Sometimes friends disagree and argue. We're good now_

"You don't know what you're talking about." He stepped around Cecilia. "They're my friends and nothing's going to change that."

"Artimus . . ." Cecilia grasped his arm.

He stopped, his entire body tingling. He stared down at Cecilia's thin fingers wrapped around his arm. His stomach clenched.

"I'm just trying to help," she said.

"Why?"

Cecilia hesitated. "Because you're the only person in the entire school who's been decent to me. You're a nice boy, and considering the House I'm in I don't get to meet very many nice boys. I just don't want to see someone like you used or manipulated."

The paralysis returned, this time reaching into Artimus' brain. She sounded so sincere. But everything she'd said about Jimmy and Jared and Rosa . . . it just couldn't be true. After nearly seven years together he would have known if . . .

Then he started thinking back on those past seven years. How many summers did he spend at their homes? When had they ever come to his, even when his father had been out of town? How many jokes had Jared told at his expense? How many times did they ignore him at Quidditch matches and dances and other social gatherings while they talked to other friends?

"Come on." Cecilia nodded back to the bleachers. "Let's watch the rest of this game . . . as horrible as it will likely be."

Artimus let her lead him back to their seats.

The third period started with Marcel Dubuque taking a shot from the blue line that whizzed far away from the net. After that, Artimus' attention on the game drifted in and out. He replayed Cecilia's comments in his mind, along with memories of him with Jimmy, Jared and Rosa.

_She's wrong. They're the best friends I've ever had._

He thought of the argument with Jimmy, and his feelings afterward. He'd done what Jimmy had asked, and he just dismissed everything he told him, even talked down to him.

"_I've been around Slytherins, you haven't . . . I spent a year at Hogwarts . . . I created a hockey team from scratch . . . I got to hang with Harry Potter."_

He glanced at Cecilia. Maybe Jimmy did know what he was talking about, about Slytherins being known for their cunning. Maybe she was trying to manipulate him into turning against his friends.

_But is she entirely wrong about them?_

The drone of the final horn surprised Artimus. He shuddered and stared at the white ethereal scoreboard floating above the rink. His shoulders sagged when he saw the score.

Ardenturo 8, Blazenrowe 2.

He glanced down in time to see Jimmy rip off his helmet and fire it at the glass behind the bench.

"I'm guessing he's not in a good mood," Cecilia said flatly.

Artimus grunted as he stood and followed the rest of the fans filing out of the arena. He noticed Rana a few feet away, head down and frowning.

He walked over to the small crowd gathered near the blue and gold wooden cabin that served as the Blazenrowe locker room. Several students shook their heads and conversed amongst themselves. Artimus remembered the reaction Jimmy got when he was introduced before the game. He wondered if his friend would get an even worse reception when he exited the locker room.

Artimus found an empty patch of grass ten feet from the locker room and stood there quietly. To his surprise, Cecilia sidled up next to him.

"So, what do you think he's saying to them in there?"

Artimus turned to Cecilia. Before he could answer, the door to the locker room crashed open.

He snapped his head around and saw Marcel Dubuque storm out.

"Don't walk away from me when I'm talking, dammit!" Jimmy flew out of the room, his face a pulsating red. "If you weren't so selfish out there, we might have had a chance to win this damn game!"

"I was not being selfish!" Marcel turned and marched up to him. "When I felt I had a good shot, I took it."

"You didn't have one good angle the entire game. Not one! Do you know how many times I was open around the net?"

"Oh, forgive me, _Mon Capitan. _I'm sorry you didn't get your allotted two to three goals a game. I'm sorry I didn't help add to the growing legend that is Jimmy O'Bannon!"

"Is that what this is about? You still pissed because I made captain and you didn't?"

"At least I was with the team last year. I wasn't over in England letting that mental case Harry Potter fill my brain with lies about You-Know-Who."

"They're not lies!"

At that point Rosa and Jared ran out of the locker room.

"Jimmy, let's do this back inside." Rosa put a hand on his shoulder. "The whole school doesn't need to see this."

"I'll go back inside when I feel like it."

Rosa's eyes narrowed. "Go back inside, now!"

"DON'T TELL ME WHAT TO DO!!" The veins in Jimmy's neck bulged. "I'm the friggin' captain of this team whether anyone likes it or not! And I'll dress down anyone, anywhere I feel like!"

"Hey!" Jared stepped in front of Jimmy. "Don't yell at my cousin like that!"

"I can fight my own damn battles, Jared."

Jared swung around to Rosa. "Well excuse me for trying to help!"

"You're doing a great job of holding this team together, _Captain."_ Marcel stared smugly at Jimmy.

Eyes blazing with rage, Jimmy stabbed a finger at the French-Canadian boy. "One more comment like that and you can spend the rest of the season watching games instead of playing in them!"

Jimmy stomped past Marcel. He then looked over his shoulder. "I would've been better off if I brought the Triad over here to play today!"

Marcel rolled his eyes. "I am so sick of hearing about your stupid team from Hogwarts."

"At least they would have played a hell of a lot better than anyone out there today!"

Jimmy headed off, fists clenched. Marcel, Rosa and Jared all glared at him.

Artimus hurried after him. "Jimmy!"

"Not now, Artimus!" he snapped.

"Jimmy, come on. I know you lost, but you don't have to take it out on Rosa. Just calm down and . . ."

"Calm down?!" Jimmy turned to face him, teeth bared.

Artimus took a step back. He'd never seen his friend so enraged.

"You want me to calm down? My first game as captain and we played like crap! And not one damn person out there listened to a thing I said! Do you know what . . . how would you know what it's like? You get to sit in the stands and watch, not a care in the world. I'm the one who has to lead this team . . . a team where no one gives a damn if we get our asses kicked by friggin' Ardenturo. So don't tell me to calm down!"

Jimmy spun around and marched away, a stream of curses flying out of his mouth.

Artimus exhaled slowly. He turned to Cecilia, who stood with her arms folded, a knowing look on her face.

_Maybe she is right about Jimmy._

* * *

_TO BE CONTINUED_

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: **_You can find out why Jimmy O'Bannon really hates bullies in my fanfic "The Luna Effect."_


	10. Chapter 10

For the first time since he learned he was a wizard, Jimmy O'Bannon hated being at the Salem Witches Institute.

Bad enough most of the students here didn't believe him about Lord Voldemort's return. He could deal with their glares and cold shoulders so long as Rosa, Jared and Artimus stuck by his side.

Now he didn't even have that.

None of them had spoken to him since that disastrous hockey game against Ardenturo three days ago.

_Well, if they're waiting for an apology, they can forget it._

Did any of them realize how important that game had been to him? That was his debut as the Blazenrowe captain. Everyone expected him to go out there and knock Ardenturo off their high horse.

What happened instead? No one on the ice respected his authority. They played selfishly, they played sloppy, and they embarrassed him and the entire dorm.

_And everyone's upset I went off on them? They deserved it the way they played._

O'Bannon snorted as he trudged into Potions Class. He noticed Jared and Rosa sitting at a table near the front. Both looked over their shoulders, noticed him, and turned back around.

_Fine. Whatever._

He spotted Artimus sitting with Cecilia Malfoy. Was it just him or had those two become chummier over the past couple of days?

O'Bannon found an empty table near the back and dropped his text book and cauldron on it, making a loud bang. He plopped into the seat and slouched, wishing Rana was in this class.

_But would she want to sit next to me?_

After the loss the Ardenturo, he purposefully avoided Rana for the rest of the day. The next morning she found him in the Blazenrowe Hall parlor, asking if he was all right.

"Yeah, I'm friggin' peachy."

"Jimmy, I know it sucks to lose to Ardenturo, but moping about it isn't going to . . ."

"Well, maybe I like moping about it," he practically snapped at her.

Anger lines marred her pretty face. "Fine. I'll come back when you stop acting like a five-year-old."

Rana stormed back upstairs.

They'd barely spoken since.

O'Bannon continued to slouch, contemplating his fingernails. He found it ironic that this time last year he hated it at Hogwarts and wanted to be back at Salem. Now the situation was reversed. Of course, Hogwarts was no picnic either from what Fred and George wrote. But even with that Umbridge bitch, the shenanigans by the Ministry of Magic and a school full of skeptics, being at Hogwarts would be much preferable to being here.

A banging door shattered his quiet contemplation. He watched a hefty wizard with receding gray hair and pug face stomping into the classroom.

O'Bannon groaned. Mister Korvette appeared in a more miserable mood than usual.

He slammed his notes and texts on the desk, the bang echoing loudly throughout the classroom. A few students jumped. Hands on his hips, Korvette glowered at the class.

"I am missing four ounces of asp scales. I want to know who took them, and I want to know now!"

The man's accusatory eyes darted around the room, lingering on the Muggle-born students, including O'Bannon. That didn't surprise him. From the first week of class he picked up less-than-subtle hints Korvette wasn't very found of Muggle-borns.

"Nobody knows. Of course. You think you can steal from me and get away with it? Well I'll tell you the same thing I'm telling all my other classes. I want those asp scales on my desk before sunrise tomorrow or every student I have will spend all day Saturday collecting Shrethrikker Vine sap."

Several groans went up among the students, O'Bannon included. He'd dealt with Shrethrikker Vines in his Second Year Herbology class. The things were covered with razor-like studs and loved to thrash about like an enraged squid. They may not be deadly, but if you walked away from them with only a dozen cuts, you could consider yourself lucky.

"Don't complain," Korvette snarled. "Just return my asp scales."

O'Bannon sighed. He missed his old Potions teacher, Mister Hillenbrand. While the guy seriously lacked a personality, he was a pretty decent teacher. Unfortunately, he decided to open his own Apothecary shop near Portland, Maine after last term.

_I leave one asshole Potions teacher at Hogwarts only to get another one here. Lucky me._

"Turn to page seventy-nine in your books," Mister Korvette said sharply. "Today you'll be making _Bestia Pareo_ Potion. With it, you'll be able to tame the most dangerous beasts, from dragons to chimaeras. Now get your ingredients and get to work . . . and don't think of stealing the tiniest pinch of anything, or by Merlin I'll make you wish you were never born."

"I'm already starting to wish that," O'Bannon grumbled under his breath.

He shuffled to the cabinets at the back of the class with the other students. For a moment he caught Jared's eye, but he just sneered and turned away. Artimus deliberately did not face him, while Cecilia regarded him with a stony expression.

O'Bannon snatched the proper ingredients and returned to his desk. He tried to focus on mixing the potion properly, but other thoughts pierced his concentration. How long would Jared, Artimus and Rosa be mad at him? Should he apologize to them? What about Rana? What about the hockey team? They had practice this afternoon. Would any of them show up?

To O'Bannon's surprise, he found he didn't care one way or the other. Hell, after Saturday's fiasco, he wouldn't mind forfeiting the rest of the season.

O'Bannon scooped a teaspoon full of powdered horse teeth and held it over his cauldron when the classroom door opened.

"Excuse me, Mister Korvette. I'm sorry to interrupt."

O'Bannon's eyes widened in surprise. He whipped around, as did everyone else in the classroom.

A short witch with gray hair spilling out her pointed hat entered the classroom. Behind her was a slender woman with stringy black hair in a short ponytail and horn-rimmed glasses.

"Good morning, Headmistress," Korvette said without a hint of pleasantry.

Headmistress Esmeralda gave him a brief grin and pointed a hand toward the younger witch. "I just wanted to introduce you all to Katerina Ponce. She's with the Department of Magic's Office of Educational Reform. She'll be with us for a few weeks, observing classes and chronicling what works here at Salem and what needs improving."

A sour look fell over Korvette's face.

"I apologize for any inconvenience I'm puttin' on y'all," Ponce spoke with one of the thickest Southern accents O'Bannon had ever heard. "I promise I won't do a thing to disrupt your studies. I'll just sit in the back quiet as a mouse. Y'all won't even know I'm here."

Ponce moved toward an empty table toward the back of the room.

"Well, I hope you'll all make Miss Ponce feel welcome," said the Headmistress. "Now, please return to . . ."

A loud crash came from the back of the classroom. O'Bannon and the others turned to see Miss Ponce pick up the chair she had knocked over.

"Sorry about that," she said with a sheepish grin.

O'Bannon rolled his eyes. _Quiet as a mouse. Yeah, a mouse the size of a kraken._

Headmistress Esmeralda departed. Mister Korvette shot a steely gaze toward Miss Ponce before returning to his desk. The teacher muttered something under his breath, but O'Bannon didn't pick it up.

By the end of class O'Bannon's potion had congealed into a frozen dark green substance, looking nothing like the colored drawing in his text book. Mister Korvette snorted a second after he stared into O'Bannon's cauldron.

"Please do the Wizarding World a favor, Mister O'Bannon. After you graduate, stay out of any job that requires you to mix potions."

O'Bannon said nothing. He just sighed loudly as Korvette moved on to bitch about someone else's potion.

Once Korvette finished evaluating everyone's potion, O'Bannon went to the wash basin to clean out his cauldron. He had to use a Shattering Charm to break up the solid mass that was his botched potion.

"And I'm going to examine every jar in the cabinets and make sure you haven't stolen anything else of mine, and Merlin help you if you did!"

"Whatever," O'Bannon grumbled as he went back to his desk to retrieve his book.

"Oh, excuse me, Mister Korvette, Sir." Miss Ponce stood up. O'Bannon couldn't get over the thickness of her accent. She sounded like she could fit right in with the cast of _Gone With The Wind . . . _or more likely _The Dukes of Hazzard._

"Yes, Miss Ponce?" Korvette all but snarled.

She just smiled wide. "I was just wondering if I could impose on you just a little. Before you go through all your stuff back there, I wanted to use your classroom to interview some of your students. It won't take more than a bit."

Korvette glowered at the Department of Magic bureaucrat. "Fine."

He stomped toward the door. O'Bannon caught some of what he was muttering.

" . . . don't think I know how to run a Potions Class on my own . . ."

Korvette slammed the door behind him.

Ponce jerked a bit in response, then turned to everyone with her toothy grin. "All right, now. If the following students would please stay here." She held a piece of parchment in front of her. "Kirby, Terrance F. Hale, Penelope D. Ngor, Lia. O'Bannon, James M."

O'Bannon grimaced. He hated being called James.

He, Penelope and Lia waited outside while Miss Ponce spoke with Kirby. The girls chatted near the door while he sat on a landscape boulder surrounded by flowers, gazing around campus at the red and orange leaves hanging from the trees. A half-smile briefly graced his lips. The onset of autumn always made Salem look beautiful.

He lowered his eyes, wishing Rana was sitting next to him to share this with him. Actually, he really wished he could go back in time and stop himself from snapping at her. She hadn't been on the hockey team. It wasn't her fault they played like crap.

_And what about Rosa and Jared?_ They actually played hard against Ardenturo. But maybe they could have done more to help him hold the team together.

"Mister O'Bannon. You're next."

He turned around and saw no sign of Penelope Hale or Lia Ngor. He only saw Miss Ponce standing in the doorway. Had she already finished with the other three?

O'Bannon slid off the rock and walked back to the Potions classroom. The smiling Miss Ponce directed him to one of the rear tables. She sat next to him, quill in hand.

"How're y'all doing today, Mister O'Bannon," she asked sweetly.

"Been better."

"Oh, sorry to hear that. Seventh Year is always the hardest to get through, isn't it?"

"Yeah." O'Bannon shrugged, wanting to get this interview over as soon as possible.

"Well, we best get started. Now, for my report to the Office of Educational Reform, I wanted to get the opinions of the students, how they feel about their classes and teachers and the like. Now, if you have problems with a teacher, please do not be afraid to express them. I assure you the identities of all the students I interview will be kept confidential."

"Okay."

"Great." Miss Ponce beamed at him. "Now first, what is your opinion of the subject matter of this class?"

"It's all right. I mean, we come in, mix some potions, and that's it. Pretty simple."

"Uh-huh." Miss Ponce scribbled a few things on her parchment. "How would you describe your teacher, Mister Korvette?"

O'Bannon worked his jaw back and forth. He could go on for an hour about what a jagoff the guy was. But what if his response somehow got out and he learned about it. He'd be lucky to get a "D" for Dreadful in this class.

_Like it matters. Besides, she said she'd keep everyone's identity confidential._

O'Bannon gave her an earful about Mister Korvette's unpleasant demeanor and his prejudice toward Muggle-borns.

"Heck, just today he threw a fit, saying someone stole some asp scales. He stared at us Muggle-borns a lot more than anyone else."

"Uh-huh." Miss Ponce acted rather indifferently to his revelation. She just jotted down more notes.

"Now I understand you're captain of your h . . . hall's hockey team."

O'Bannon slumped in his seat. "Yeah."

"Well that's interesting. I have a Muggle-born friend who took me to a few games in Carolina to see the Panthers."

O'Bannon's brow furrowed. "Um, don't you mean the Hurricanes? The Panthers play in Florida."

"What? Oh yes. Of course. You're right."

Miss Ponce shifted her chair to face him directly. "So. What's your favorite hockey team?"

A quizzical look came over O'Bannon. What did any of this have to do with educational reform at Salem?

"The Boston Bruins."

Miss Ponce's eyes lit up. "Oh. That must be exciting, getting to watch Wayne Grass-key all the time."

O'Bannon did a double-take. "What? Don't you mean Wayne _Gretzky_?"

"Oh yeah. Sorry about that."

"And he never played for the Bruins."

Hinkey hairs went up on the back of O'Bannon's neck. What was this women's deal?

His mind catapulted him back to Hogwarts and Defense Against the Dark Arts with Mad-Eye Moody . . . or the Death Eater disguised as Mad-Eye. Imposter or not, all his warnings came back to O'Bannon. _"Always be alert . . . Trust your gut . . . never let your guard down."_

His hand slid closer to the pocket where he kept his wand.

"So as a Bruins fan," Miss Ponce went on, "you must really hate -"

"Excuse me," he interrupted. "What the hell does this have to do with -"

"Please answer the question," the woman said with surprising sharpness.

Icy pinpricks went up O'Bannon's spine. His heart raced. Something was seriously wrong here.

Miss Ponce's pleasant Southern Belle tone completely vanished. "Now, as a Bruins fan, I'm sure you must really hate the Buffalo Sabres."

O'Bannon took quick, deep breaths, trying to settle himself. His fingers moved closer to his wand. Did Miss Ponce notice?

"No," he responded flatly. "I hate the Montreal Canadiens and the New York Rangers."

A sly grin formed on Miss Ponce's lips. "That's all I needed to know."

O'Bannon held his breath, yanked out his wand and jumped out of his seat. The chair he sat on toppled over. He leveled his wand at Miss Ponce.

"Relax, Jimmy Boy!" She held out an open palm.

O'Bannon froze. _Jimmy Boy?_ The only ones who called him that were . . .

Fred and George Weasley.

"Who are you?" O'Bannon didn't lower his wand. "What the hell's goin' on here?"

"Just relax. I'll show you."

Miss Ponce's eyes narrowed, looking as though she was concentrating intently on something.

Seconds later her face quivered and reformed, looking more heart-shaped than before. Her hair also receded and became spiky . . . and changed color from black to fluorescent green.

Miss Ponce checked her reflection in the glass window of a nearby cabinet. "There. That's better."

She removed her glasses and stood. O'Bannon still aimed his wand at her.

"It's a pleasure to finally meet you, Jimmy," Miss Ponce, or whoever she really was, now spoke with a British accent. "Fred and George told me so much about you over the summer."

O'Bannon lowered his wand as the woman extended her hand.

"The Order of the Phoenix sent me here to help. My name is Tonks."

_TO BE CONTINUED_


	11. Chapter 11

O'Bannon realized one thing right off the bat.

Tonks was hot . . . in a punk rock sort of way.

Even with her robes, O'Bannon could tell the woman looked very fit. As he did every day with Miss Venatici in History of Magic, he wondered what this Tonks would look like with more revealing clothes, or better yet, no clothes at all.

"Hey. You going into a trance or something?"

An involuntary shudder went through O'Bannon. He felt his face go flush. Had his ogling been _that_ noticeable?

"Sorry. Just . . . the whole thing took me by surprise." He shook Tonks' hand. The woman had a surprisingly firm grip.

"So," he continued. "The Order sent you here?"

"That's right." Tonks sat back down.

O'Bannon picked up his own chair and sat across from her. "And all those hockey questions? Was that some kind of test?"

Tonks gave him a mischievous grin. "Fred and George gave me all that. I mismatched the teams and players just to see if I could throw you. After what happened with that fake Mad-Eye Moody, one can't be too careful these days."

O'Bannon worked his jaw back and forth. "And how do I know you're not an imposter?"

Tonks chuckled. "Anyone tell you you'd make a good Auror? You have a very suspicious mind."

She reached into her robes. O'Bannon tensed until she pulled out a piece of parchment and handed it to him. He held it up so he could keep Tonks in his line of sight, just in case.

His eyes widened when he noticed a swirling kaleidoscope of colors surrounding a golden stamp bearing the letters A.D.

"That's an Incorruptus Charm."

"Correct." Tonks nodded. "And I'm sure you know what would happen if someone tried to forge another's name on that parchment . . . or if someone tried to impersonate the person chosen to deliver it."

O'Bannon indeed knew. The parchment would begin screaming, "FAKE!! FAKE!!" until it was returned to the hands of the proper person.

He started to read.

_Dear Jimmy,_

_I hope this letter finds you well. While I am sure you are glad to be back in your native country, know that there are many students and staff at Hogwarts who miss you greatly. Even though your time here was short, you have made a lasting impression on this school._

_Fred and George Weasley have shared your letters with me, and I am deeply concerned at the state of things at Salem. While it is not in my nature to accuse Hogwarts students of wrongdoing without adequate proof, certainly suspicion must fall on Miss Malfoy and Miss Sejant. I have spent much time speculating on Lucius Malfoy's motives for sending those two to your school, circumventing nearly every procedure in place for determining which Hogwarts students should have the privilege of studying abroad. Therefore, I have sent Miss Nymphadora Tonks to Salem . . ._

O'Bannon's face scrunched up. _Nymphadora?_

He shook his head and continued.

_Therefore, I have sent Miss Nymphadora Tonks to Salem to determine whether or not Lucius' niece and Miss Sejant are engaged in any activity which could be detrimental to your school. Please give her any assistance you can._

_Best of luck to the both of you, and be careful._

_Sincerely,_

_Albus Dumbledore_

_Headmaster, Hogwarts School for Wizarding and Witchcraft_

"Okay." He handed Dumbledore's letter back to Tonks. "I guess you're legit, Tonks. Or would you prefer Nymphadora?" He barely kept a straight face.

Nymphadora Tonks smiled sweetly and leaned forward. "You can call me Nymphadora. But you'll have to ask yourself one thing."

"What's that?"

"Whether you like walking with your legs on backwards and celery stalks growing out your head."

O'Bannon took all of one second to consider this. "Then Tonks it is."

She smiled with satisfaction and leaned back in her seat.

"So . . ." O'Bannon rubbed his hands together. "Cecilia and Serinta are up to something. I knew it."

"We have no proof that they're up to anything. That's why the Order sent me here. To find out."

"C'mon," O'Bannon scoffed. "With a Malfoy in the mix, they're up to something. And speaking of the lovely cousin of Draco and Dipwad, she's been getting real buddy-buddy with one of my best buds, Artimus Rand. She's feeding him all kinds of bullcrap sob stories about how her whole family disowned her and her parents 'cause they weren't pureblood."

"That's true."

O'Bannon's brow furrowed as he canted his head. "Seriously?"

Tonks nodded.

"Huh." O'Bannon stayed silent for several seconds, processing this revelation. "Well, maybe he's bribing her or something. Maybe Lucius Malfoy wants Cecilia to get close to one of my friends so she can do something to me."

"Well, we certainly think we're important, don't we?" Tonks smirked.

"No, no. I'm not being egotistical or anything. It's just Fred and George thought Lucius might do something to me because I beat Draco's team in our hockey game back at Hogwarts."

"With everything that's going on right now, do you really think someone like Lucius Malfoy is going to care about a stupid Muggle game?"

"Hockey isn't stupid." O'Bannon said more forcefully than he intended. He took a deep breath and continued. "I mean, with pureblood fanatics like the Malfoys, who knows what they consider a legit reason for revenge."

"Did you every think those two Slytherins could be here for another reason?"

"Okay, what?" O'Bannon spread out his arms. "I'm all ears."

"You don't need your ears for this one. Just your eyes."

"Huh?"

"You've seen what's been happening around Salem. I'm sure your letters only cover a fraction of it."

O'Bannon's head lolled back and forth. "What? You mean everyone stressing out? With the workload we've had how could anyone here not be on the verge of a breakdown?"

"My Seventh Year at Hogwarts was hell, too. But I don't recall people going so mental they started womping on one another. Oh, by the way. That boy who hit you in the head with a stick. Pinder, was it? Is he a Seventh Year?"

"No. Fourth Year."

"And are all the students who've been having rows with one another and trying to kill one another all Seventh Years?"

O'Bannon paused. "No."

"So all this . . . disharmony at Salem can't just be the result of sadistic professors burying Seventh Years in homework."

"Well, maybe not. But in Isaac Pinder's case, he was downright obsessed with making my dorm's hockey team. His brother was one of the best players Blazenrowe ever had. I guess the pressure was too much for him."

"Uh-huh." Tonks nodded. "And what excuse do all the other non-Seventh Years have?"

O'Bannon stared at her in silence. His mouth slowly fell open. He leaned his head back, stared at the ceiling and shook his head.

"Dammit!" He looked back at Tonks. "Either I'm really selfish or really stupid. Here I thought this had to do with that game between the Triad and Slytherin. But . . ." He grunted. "It's been going on all around me. And I just thought it was typical school stress."

O'Bannon then remembered what Rosa had mentioned to him several weeks ago, about how she couldn't remember students being so stressed out during their entire time at Salem.

"So you think someone is casting a spell to make everyone here, like, super pissed off?"

Tonks folded her hands in her lap. "From what I've learned from your letters and what your headmistress told me, I'd bet my next month's pay someone is manipulating the emotions of the students here."

O'Bannon stared past Tonks. He thought back to his meltdown after the Blazenrowe/Ardenturo hockey game. Yeah, he didn't like to lose. Yeah, he'd been in games where his team played like crap. He'd been mad about it, but nowhere near the level of last Saturday.

_Oh my God._

A burning cold sensation covered his flesh and dug into his bones. His legs began to quiver.

He'd never known fear like this. Fear that someone, or something, had gotten inside him, messed with his mind, his emotions, his very being. His self-control had been taken away, making him do things he otherwise wouldn't.

Like yell at three of his best friends in the whole world.

_C'mon, man. Get a grip._

O'Bannon pressed his hands on his legs and looked at Tonks. "Okay. So, take me out of the equation. Why then, for argument's sake, would Lucius Malfoy send Cecilia and Serinta here?"

"For one thing, Salem and Hogwarts have always enjoyed close ties . . . well, at least for the past hundred and ten years or so, once all the bitterness from The Great Break subsided. And Professor Dumbledore is trying to rally as many foreign witches and wizards as possible to oppose You-Know-Who. So it would be in the Dark Lord's interests to want to disrupt things at a school that could be most helpful to Dumbledore and the rest of the Order."

"So how are they doing it?" O'Bannon asked. "Some sort of spell?"

Tonks shook her head. "I've checked, and so has Headmistress Esmeralda. If someone was manipulating the students here by wand we would have detected certain fluctuations in the local magical fields."

"What about an Imperius Curse? They're pretty hard to detect."

"That involves one wizard controlling one other. It would be impossible for one or both those girls to use it on so many students at one time."

"So what then?" O'Bannon slumped in his chair, staring at the wooden floorboards under him. Could it be cursed jewelry or other accessories? No, not everyone here wore earrings or bracelets or whatnot. A potion? And how would someone get every student to take it?

His head snapped up. "What about the food?"

Tonks smiled wide. "Like I said, you could make a good Auror. Someone could mix some sort of potion and put it in the school's food. That would ensure it got to every student at Salem."

Again O'Bannon shuddered, not liking the idea he unknowingly ate or drank something that had turned him into a raging lunatic.

"So what do we do?"

"Get some of the food from the kitchens, see if it's been tampered with."

"How do we do that?" O'Bannon asked.

"I would ask Headmistress Esmeralda to order your house elves to bring us some samples. Outside of you, she's the only one who knows my true identity. But I'd rather not involve her in anything directly, in case whoever's behind all this is having her watched. Probably best if we sneak into the kitchen, get it ourselves, and sneak back out."

"Whoa." O'Bannon held up a hand. "You want to sneak in to _our _kitchens?"

"Why not?" Tonks shrugged. "Me and my friends used to sneak into the Hogwarts kitchens all the time. Fred and George told me you tagged along with them quite a bit when they did the same. Besides, your house elves . . ."

"Servant elves," O'Bannon corrected her.

"Fine. Your servant elves won't tell anyone we've been down there."

"Ya think so?"

"Of course," Tonks eyed him curiously. "House elves, servant elves. If we tell them to keep quiet that we've been in the kitchens, they'll do it. They always follow orders without question."

O'Bannon threw his head back and howled with laughter.

"What the hell's so funny?"

O'Bannon nearly hyperventilated as he answered her. "Boy, are you about to get an education on servant elves."

_TO BE CONTINUED_


	12. Chapter 12

"Trespassers in the kitchen! Trespassers in the kitchen!"

Jimmy O'Bannon expected this response from the Servant Elves who staffed the school kitchen. Still the sight of the little white-clad creatures jumping and screeching made every muscle in his body tighten in dread.

Just like at Hogwarts, the kitchen was off-limits to students. But back in Britain the House Elves didn't freak out when O'Bannon joined Fred, George and Lee on their many forays to the kitchen. In fact, the elves had been downright accommodating to them.

Damn, but he missed those British House Elves.

"Fetch a teacher!" One of the elves clamored. "Better yet, fetch the Headmistress!"

Two elves headed for the exit.

"Wait!" O'Bannon blurted. "I brought you a gift."

Instantly the chaos evaporated. The two elves running for the door halted. Every pair of humungous eyes turned O'Bannon's way.

"A gift?" The elf apparently in charge spoke in a reverent tone. "You brought us a gift?"

"Yeah. Uh, you know, for all the hard work you do. I just felt I haven't been as appreciative of you guys as I should. So here."

O'Bannon frowned as he reached inside his robes and pulled out a white box with yellow frills. He'd so wanted to give this to Rana instead. But saving the world, or at least his little piece of it, took priority.

He handed it to the head elf. Impossibly, his eyes grew larger as he held the box as delicately as a mother would her newborn child. The elf removed the wrapping and opened it. A collective gasp of awe went up from the elves.

"Sweet Succulent Berry Clusters. A most exquisite taste."

"Yeah, I know." O'Bannon sighed quietly. He knew Rana would have loved those. What girl wouldn't?

The elves each took a piece in an orderly fashion. Every one of them closed their eyes and moaned in delight the moment they popped the candy in their mouths.

"Glad you guys like 'em," O'Bannon said. "Say, you mind if I nip some food? I'm kinda hungry and don't feel like waiting for dinner."

"Help yourself, Sir," the head elf said in a voice dreamy enough to match Luna Lovegood's . . . if the weird Ravenclaw chick spoke like her vocal cords had been subjected to a cheese grater.

While the Servant Elves swooned over the candy, O'Bannon went around grabbing everything he could. Eggs, milk, chicken, cranberries, pastries, potatoes. When his bookbag was stuffed he turned to the elves and gave them a two-fingered salute.

"Thanks for the take-out. Enjoy those berry clusters."

"We most certainly will. Sir is most kind to Greller and his staff."

The head elf bowed to O'Bannon. He was taken aback for a moment. He couldn't remember a Servant Elf sounding so sincere.

"Anytime. Well, gotta run. Have a good one."

O'Bannon squeezed between an old fashion iron stove and the wall. He tapped the wall with his wand four times. A portion of it vanished. He stepped through the newly created opening and waved his wand in a circular motion to reseal the wall.

"I still can't believe you had to bribe them to get all that."

O'Bannon looked up to see Tonks, in her Katerina Ponce disguise, the tip of her wand glowing to light the tunnel.

"No, you don't bribe Servant Elves. They consider that an insult, a hundred times worse than forgetting to tip them."

Tonks rolled her eyes. Oh well, it took him a while to accept the fact you _didn't_ have to tip elves in England to get them to do stuff.

"But a gift," O'Bannon continued, "shows you sincerely appreciate everything they do for you. And it's about the only thing that will make a Servant Elf actually happy. Give 'em a gift and they're putty in your hands."

"Well, be that as it may, it looks like we've got enough food to work with. Come on."

O'Bannon nodded and led the way, his pace a bit quicker than normal. He wanted to get out of these tunnels as soon as possible and let Tonks examine the food and find out what it had been tainted with. Then they'd have proof Cecilia and Serinta had actually caused all this discontent infecting Salem.

"So how did you learn about these secret tunnels under your school?" Tonks asked.

"Ha! Secret my ass. Everyone at Salem knows about them. I've only been in a handful myself. If I ever get any free time I'd like to explore the entire network. What can I say? Being with Fred and George last year emboldened me to . . . whoa! Low bridge."

O'Bannon ducked under a protruding rock. As he straightened up, he heard a soft thud behind him, followed by a stream of cursing. He turned to see Tonks grimacing and rubbing her forehead.

"You okay?"

"Yeah. Bloody marvelous," she growled.

O'Bannon shook his head. First the chair in Potions class, now a rock. He wondered how someone this clumsy could have become an auror.

"Come on," Tonks grumbled.

They continued through the tunnel, emerging in a closet in the basement of Blazenrowe Hall. O'Bannon turned just as Tonks came through the opening . . . and planted her foot in a metal bucket.

"Dammit!" Tonks turned away from O'Bannon and kicked furiously to rid herself of the bucket.

O'Bannon canted his head and stared at Tonks in bemusement. "Jeez, what are you? A walking _Three Stooges_ sketch?"

Tonks whipped around and glowered at him. She tried again to kick off the bucket, yelped and pitched forward.

"Crap!" O'Bannon stuck out his arms to catch her.

Tonks crashed into his chest. The two dropped to the floor. O'Bannon grunted as he hit the cold, hard stone surface. A tingle went through his body as Tonks' hair brushed against his cheek. The auror lifted her head. O'Bannon's chest seized as Tonks' pretty face hovered inches from his. He then realized his hands rested on the woman's shoulderblades.

"I hope no one opens that door," she said. "This could be rather awkward to explain."

"Huh?" O'Bannon blinked, trying to comprehend the fact a very beautiful older woman was lying on top of him.

An image of Rana Rollingsworth popped into his head.

"Oh. Um . . . yeah. Glad I was here to break your fall."

Tonks rolled off him and kicked out her foot. This time the bucket flew off her foot and clattered on the stone floor. The two then got to their feet and brushed themselves off.

"Well . . ." Tonks straightened out her robes. "I hope you enjoyed your cheap thrill of the day."

O'Bannon gasped. Heat welled up in his cheeks.

Tonks winked and playfully tapped his chest. "Lighten up, O'Bannon. It was a joke. Anyway . . ." She bent down to retrieve his bookbag. O'Bannon half-expected her to drop it on her foot. "I'll get to work on this right away."

"So how long will it take to find out if the food's been spiked?"

"Depends on what the spell is, whether whoever's responsible is using charms to conceal their work. Hopefully I can come up with some answers by tomorrow."

"Tomorrow?" O'Bannon slouched and slapped his sides. He didn't want to wait until tomorrow. He wanted to know what was making his classmates want to tear one another apart, and he wanted to know now.

"Hey." Tonks gave him a sympathetic smile and gently clasped his shoulder. "I need to be thorough if we're going to find out what's affecting your friends. If there's something in this food, I'll find it. I promise."

O'Bannon sighed and nodded. He had no choice but to trust Tonks' abilities. Klutz or not, the woman was an auror.

"Yeah. Okay."

She patted his shoulder. "I'll check back with you as soon as I'm done."

With that, she exited the basement.

O'Bannon folded his arms and leaned against the doorframe of the closet. Nothing to do now but wait . . . dammit. He felt he should be doing something more than sit on his ass and wait for Tonks, especially with someone manipulating the emotions of his classmates.

_Actually, there is something I can do._

**XXXXX**

After dinner O'Bannon gathered the Blazenrowe hockey team in the parlor. He stood beside the fireplace, trying to force on his stony "game face." But mostly he allowed his eyes to fall to the rug with its blue and gold geometric patterns, feeling the players' apprehensive gazes grip his body.

Clutching the mantle so tight he thought he'd crush it, O'Bannon stared back at his team.

"I just wanted to say I'm sorry for the way I acted Saturday. It's true, we played like crap out there, and every one of us knows, or should know, that we're a hell of a lot better than that. As captain I should have conveyed that in a much better way than I did. I hope you can forgive me, and I hope we can put this whole thing behind us and look ahead to our next game."

He was greeted by silence. Prickly heat crawled over his body. Did his meltdown damage this team beyond repair?

O'Bannon gazed at Jared and Rosa, who sat together on a blue Victorian-style sofa. If anyone would apologize first, it should be them.

He waited . . . and waited.

"Hey, don't sweat it, Jimmy."

O'Bannon's head whipped to the left. Dante Marshall flashed him a grin. "Everyone's been flying off the handle around here lately. I guess Saturday was just your turn. We're cool."

"Thanks." O'Bannon managed a half-smile.

"Apology accepted, Jimmy," Jared said. Rosa nodded in agreement.

The rest of the team also accepted his apology. Even Marcel Dubuque . . . if a brief nod and a less sullen look than usual could be interpreted as acceptance.

A few minutes later, the team dispersed, except for Rosa and Jared.

"We've been friends since we all first came to Salem, Jimmy," an unsmiling Rosa said. "And yeah, we've had our share of arguments. But you never made me feel like crap until after the game. The things you said to me and Jared and Artimus, especially when all we were trying to do was help you, really hurt. I know you must be feeling a lot of pressure being team captain, but that's no excuse to say the things you said to us."

O'Bannon just nodded. He never realized how much he hurt his friends with that outburst. At least he could take comfort in the fact it wasn't entirely his fault. After all, what made him immune to the spell that was affecting the other students? He wished he could have told this to Rosa and Jared. But Tonks instructed him to keep all this between the two of them for the time being.

_But Rosa and Jared know I'm helping out Headmaster Dumbledore and Harry. They can be trusted._

He felt the words pile up behind his teeth. His lips parted, ready to tell Rosa and Jared everything. But again, the words of Mad-Eye Moody, imposter or not, arose in his head.

"When someone tells you to keep a secret, then shut your bloody gob! The more people you tell, the better the chance the wrong sort will hear it, and that's when people get killed."

Hard as it was for him, he swallowed, forcing down everything about Tonks and the manipulation of their classmates' emotions.

O'Bannon drew a deep breath and gazed at his friends. "I honest to God wish I could take it back, guys. I mean, we're like family. I just want you to forgive me."

"We do." Rosa briefly hugged him.

Jared shook his hand. "Next time, think before you speak . . . for once." He tacked on a sly grin.

O'Bannon smiled back.

With things patched up between them, O'Bannon headed to the girls' side of Blazenrowe Hall to make another apology.

Rana greeted him with a cold stare when she opened the door after he knocked. O'Bannon spoke quickly, fearful she would slam the door in his face before he could apologize.

"I was so stupid. You didn't deserve to be treated like that. You just wanted to see if I was all right, and I jumped down your throat. You are such a wonderful person and . . . and I really like you and I would never do anything to hurt you. Please, please forgive me."

She stayed silent for a few seconds, the longest seconds in the history of the universe for O'Bannon.

"You know, Darius had a temper, too," Rana finally said. "He'd snap at me sometimes if we lost a Quidditch match. It really got on my nerves after a while. And I don't want to go through the same with you every time you lose a hockey game."

"You won't. I promise. Heck, I just apologized to the whole team in the parlor. Please forgive me, Rana."

She took a deep breath and smiled. "All right. I forgive you, Jimmy."

Rana gave his wrist a gentle squeeze. His legs turned to jelly.

Much as O'Bannon wanted to spend more time with the beautiful Seeker, he had one more apology to make.

When he couldn't find Artimus in their room or the parlor, he headed over to the library. O'Bannon was walking up to the front door when it opened and out came Artimus, with Cecilia Malfoy behind him.

"Art." He called out, a harsh gaze targeting the Slytherin girl. "You got a sec?"

Artimus' lips curled. He looked over his shoulder at Cecilia. "I'll talk to you later."

The girl nodded and sent an equally harsh gaze back at O'Bannon as she walked away.

"What is it?" Artimus sounded annoyed.

"Look, man. I just wanted to say I'm sorry for going off on you like I did. You were trying to help and I . . . well, you didn't deserve all the crap I said to you, said about you. I'm sorry, man."

Artimus folded his arms and stared at O'Bannon, his face unreadable. After exhaling audibly, Artimus said, "Yeah, no problem. Apology accepted."

"So we're cool?"

"Yeah. We're cool."

"Good." O'Bannon looked off in the direction Cecilia had gone. "So how's things with our favorite Slytherin?"

Artimus groaned and rolled his eyes. "Not this again."

"Art . . ." O'Bannon clenched his teeth and breathed deep. He'd just reconciled with his friend. He didn't want to get mad and piss him off again.

"Look," he continued in a calmer tone. "We have to find out whether or not Cecilia is up to something."

"You're just determined to hate her, aren't you?"

"It's not a matter of hate. It's . . ." O'Bannon bit his lip. If only he could tell Artimus about Tonks and her investigation. "There's some stuff going on around here, and Cecilia and Serinta might be involved in it."

"What sort of stuff?" Artimus demanded.

"I really wish I could tell you, but I can't. You'll just have to take my word for it."

"'Take your word for it.'" Artimus chuckled sardonically. "And I'm just supposed to do that? Believe everything that comes out of your mouth because you're Jimmy O'Bannon."

"What the hell's your problem, man?"

"What's my problem?" Artimus' voice rose. "I'm supposed to take your word without question. Well what about taking my word? I told you about Cecilia's family situation, and you treated me like I was an idiot."

"I never said you were an idiot."

"You don't need to. You think I don't notice the way you talk to me, the way you and Rosa and Jared treat me. It's like I'm the baby brother of your little clique. Let's protect Artimus from bullies, because he can't fight them himself. Let's get Artimus a girlfriend, because he sure as hell can't get one on his own. Let's just dismiss everything that comes out of Artimus' mouth because he couldn't possibly say anything of importance."

"Dammit, Art. Will you chill out?"

"Why?" Artimus stomped closer to him. "You don't like what I said? Too close to the truth?"

"No one thinks that about you. Art, please. There are things going on around here you don't know about. Real serious stuff. And those two Slytherins . . ."

"Cecilia is not involved in anything!" Artimus shook with anger.

O'Bannon's eyes widened in surprise. He even took a step back as his friend raged.

"Cecilia Malfoy is a great girl! She's smart, she's insightful, and she doesn't think I'm worthless!"

"Merlin's Beard, you're talking like you're . . ." O'Bannon's jaw dropped. He regarded Artimus in silence for several seconds. "Oh my God. Art, don't tell me you're . . . you're . . ." He couldn't bring himself to say the rest of it. It was just too far-fetched.

"What?" Artimus took a step closer to him. "Attracted to her? Maybe I am. What, is that not allowed in Jimmy O'Bannon's world? Hogwarts can't keep their stupid house rivalry between Gryffindor and Slytherin inside their own walls, now you gotta bring it to our school and force it down my throat!"

"All you're asking for is trouble if you get involved with Cecilia. Dammit, I'm just looking out for you."

"I'm not eleven-years-old anymore!" Artimus flung his arms out to his sides. "I can make my own damn decisions about my own damn life! Quit treating me like the Ron Weasley to your Harry Potter! I'm not here for you to take care of just so you can inflate your stupid ego!"

"What in the hell are you talking about!? Is Cecilia filling your head with this crap?"

"No! She's opening my eyes to the truth. And the truth is . . . you were never really my friend."

Artimus purposefully bumped into O'Bannon's shoulder as he stormed off. O'Bannon watched him vanish into the darkness, too stunned to say anything.

_It's not really him. It's this spell or whatever that's infecting everyone._

The thought did nothing to diminish his surprise. He'd never seen Artimus so furious. O'Bannon began to wonder if everything his friend said could be blamed on some emotion manipulating spell.

_It has to be. He'd never . . . he wouldn't . . ._

A nasally squeal arose in the darkness. O'Bannon glanced down and saw a small silhouette scurrying toward him. In the light of a nearby gas lamp he recognized the perverted garden gnome Feetish.

O'Bannon bared his teeth and snarled. Feetish skidded to a halt a couple feet from him. The gnome stared up at him, yelped, spun around and ran off.

O'Bannon snorted as he stared into the darkness. He now wished Feetish hadn't run off. He was in the mood to kick something.

_NEXT: If you thought tempers have boiled over, wait till you see what happens in the next chapter._


	13. Chapter 13

"Hey. Where's Artimus?"

O'Bannon's eyes fluttered open in response to Jared's question. He pushed himself up on his elbows and stared across the room at Artimus' bed.

"Doesn't look like he slept here at all." Jared stared at the neatly made bed.

_Maybe he shacked up with his Slytherin girlfriend._ O'Bannon clenched his teeth before he could speak the words aloud. He sighed in frustration and stared at his blankets, thinking back to last night's argument with Artimus. A mixture of anger and shock swept through him. He couldn't believe the accusations Art hurled at him. That he only helped him to feel good about himself. That he had never been Artimus' friend.

_Talk about an ungrateful . . ._

O'Bannon clenched his blankets. It wasn't Artimus' fault. It was these "bad vibes" making him say those things.

_C'mon, Tonks._ He wished the British auror would find out what was making Artimus and everyone else at school act like world class a-holes.

"You okay there, Jimmy?" asked Jared.

He snapped his head toward his roommate, then glanced at the blankets clenched tightly in his hand.

"Yeah, I'm fine." O'Bannon threw the blankets off himself and padded to the bathroom.

A half-hour later they met up with Rosa at the top of the staircase. O'Bannon told her about his argument with Artimus.

"So a minute after you made up with him you pissed him off again?" Rosa rolled her eyes. "Nice job, Jimmy."

_Yeah, blame it all on me._ His head quivered as he, by some miracle, held in his words. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

"C'mon," he grumbled, fighting the nearly overwhelming urge to snap at his friend.

_I can fight this. I can fight this._

When they got downstairs, Rosa glanced into the parlor . . . and halted.

"Artimus?"

Both O'Bannon and Jared turned. They spotted Artimus stirring on one of the couches.

Rosa strode into the parlor. "Were you sleeping here all night?"

Artimus lifted his head, a contemptuous look on his face. "What do you care?"

He got to his feet and stomped past Rosa. Again Artimus' words from last night echoed in O'Bannon's head.

Like a volcanic eruption, rage burst inside him. His brain screamed at him to punch Artimus. How dare he say all that crap after he'd looked out for him since First Year?

O'Bannon turned away as Artimus stormed past. While Artimus pounded up the stairs, O'Bannon reared back his fist and thumped the wall. A couple of the moving portraits chastised him for the noise.

"Shut up," he growled at them, and rested his forehead on the wall. God, this was driving him crazy. How could he tell what were his real thoughts and how much of it he could blame on these "bad vibes?"

_I gotta fight it._

He wondered if that was even possible.

"Jimmy?"

He turned to see Rosa looking worriedly at him.

"I'm fine. Let's go to breakfast."

O'Bannon stepped toward the door, then halted. Was that such a good idea? If the food was tainted, should he even be eating it? Would his anger get completely out of control the more he ate?

_It's only making you angry. It's not killing you. Besides, you've been eating it since this whole thing started anyway, and you can't let yourself starve._

Hopefully Tonks would find out what was in the food soon, come up with an antidote and drag Cecilia and Serinta off to Azkaban. Then everything at Salem could return to normal.

He clutched the brass handle of the front door, flung it open . . .

And walked into the middle of an argument.

" . . . just doing it to suck up to O'Bannon so you'll get more playing time," Marcel Dubuque, his back to O'Bannon, bellowed in a thicker-than-usual French-Canadian accent.

Glaring back at him was Dante Marshall. "I don't suck up to anyone. I think Jimmy was just having a bad day."

"The whole team had a bad day." Dubuque cut him off. "That wouldn't have happened if I was captain."

"Oh Merlin's Beard, will you get over that."

"I will not!" Dubuque clenched his fists and stepped toward Marshall.

"Problem, guys?"

The two turned, startled when they saw O'Bannon.

"I'm cool, Jimmy." Marshall raised his hands, non-threateningly.

Dubuque's face turned so red O'Bannon expected the guy's head to explode. Instead the alternate captain spun on his heel and stormed off, muttering something in French that did not sound pleasant.

O'Bannon shook his head and started down the path to the Communal Hall, followed by Rosa, Jared and Marshall.

"You're gonna need to do something about Marcel." Rosa swiveled her head back and forth, still on the lookout for Feetish. "You know how many times he's bitched to me about not being named captain while we're doing our History of Magic project? A couple times I threatened to hex him if he didn't shut up."

"Rosa's right, man." Marshall nodded. "A couple times I overheard him talking to some of the new players about how the team would be better off with him in charge. He's gonna drive a wedge between everyone."

"Yeah." O'Bannon's face tightened. He'd seen it several times, where one or two players let their egos get out of hand and destroyed team chemistry. No way he'd let that happen to the Blazenrowe hockey team on his watch.

_But what if it's these bad vibes making him act this way?_ True, Marcel Dubuque had always been a prick, but not to the extent where he deliberately tried to undermine the team. Still, would it be fair to discipline him or kick him off the team because of some outside influence?

He wished Tonks would find out what the hell was going on around here already.

As they approached the Communal Hall they walked past another pair of arguing students, Eli Witting and Abigail Aguirre from the Jingosocke Hall Quidditch team.

"Four years we've known each other, Ab." Eli's arms shot out to his side. "How could you choose Merak Mather over me?"

"Eli, I don't think of you that way. I like you, but we're just friends."

"Friends. Yeah, right."

Seething, Eli stomped away from Abigail and toward the door to the Communal Hall.

"Have fun at the Halloween Dance with your snob of a boyfriend."

Eli pushed the door open.

A rather distressed Abigail looked at the Communal Hall, then caught sight of O'Bannon, Rosa, Jared and Marshall. All four looked off in different directions.

"Abigail Aguirre's going to the dance with Merak Mather?" Jared's face contorted in astonishment. "I thought she had better taste than that."

O'Bannon thought the same as Jared, but remained quiet as they entered the Communal Hall. The veins in his neck tightened for a moment. The tension surrounding the hall hit him like a physical force.

The conversations were more subdued than usual. Many students, instead of talking, just glared at one another. He spotted the recently returned Isaac Pinder staring daggers at the very promising Second Year hockey player Jerome Dionne. Ursa Oberlin and her suitemate Cindy Walker also glowered at one another.

O'Bannon glanced to the ceiling and found the ghost of Priscilla Primrose listlessly floating around, her transparent face sagging.

"Looks like another day of happiness and joy at the Salem Witches Institute," Jared scoffed.

O'Bannon grunted and searched for a place to sit. He found a table with some empty spaces to his right. The frustration melted from his face when he noticed Rana Rollingsworth at the table. With a bit more bounce in his step he headed over.

"Hey Ra -"

He stopped when he saw Rana's friend, Beatrice Hill, spring out of her seat.

"We've known one another since before we started at Salem," the girl barked at Rana. "Doesn't my opinion mean anything to you?"

Beatrice scowled and stomped off.

Rana just stared at her friend through narrow eyes and shook her head. That's when she noticed O'Bannon.

"Jimmy. Hi." She managed a slight smile.

"Everything okay?" He sat next to her.

"Yeah . . . I mean, no." Rana sighed. "I know Beatrice means well, but . . . she doesn't like the fact we're going to the Halloween Dance. I mean, with everything you're saying about Harry Potter and You-Know-Who."

"Sorry."

"Don't be. It's not your fault. Bea just needs to accept it. And if she can't, too bad."

O'Bannon's smile grew wider. His heart pumped faster. This was another reason he liked Rana. The girl was strong-willed and didn't take crap from anyone. He preferred that type over bland, vapid doormats.

Rosa, Jared and Marshall sat around them. Beatrice's little tirade was soon forgotten as conversation turned to the Halloween Dance.

"Well I'm almost done with my costume." Rosa poured herself some Pumpkin Juice. "I'll be going as Princess Poffinpheffer."

"Wait a minute." O'Bannon did a double-take. "Miss 'I'm-Gonna-Be-An-Ass-Kicking-Auror' is gonna dress up as a princess from a Wizarding fairy tale?"

"Why not? She did find the way to cross the River of Despair without succumbing to its power. At least I put a lot more thought into my costume than you ever do."

"What do you mean?"

Rosa rolled her eyes. "Oh please. The last three dances you've come dressed as a hockey player."

"No, no, no." O'Bannon wagged his finger. "I've been different hockey players. One year I was Ray Bourque, another year I was Joe Thornton, and then for another I was Bobby Orr."

"Yeah, just run down the list of Boston Bruin superstars. Very original." Rana turned to him with a quirky smile. "Do me a favor, Jimmy. This Halloween Dance, surprise me. Come as something different."

"Ooooh, talk about a challenge." Rosa spoke in a mock official tone. "Can Jimmy O'Bannon actually dress up for Halloween as something other than a Boston Bruin?"

Jared and Marshall hooted. So did Rana. O'Bannon shook his head, then joined the laughter.

He took a cleansing breath. How long had it been since he'd felt this way? Just like a normal teenager. Blathering on about nonsensical stuff. Laughing as though Voldemort and Death Eaters and wars and conspiracies didn't exist.

His laughter subsided when he realized one thing was missing from this frivolity.

His friend Artimus Rand.

"Stop rubbing it in my face!"

The feminine shriek silenced O'Bannon and his friends. They all looked to a table on the other side of the Communal Hall. A short girl with her dark hair in a pixie cut stood on her seat, stabbing her finger at a girl with a trim figure and shoulder-length black hair.

"You always get whatever boy you want!" Kellie Hale screamed at her older sister, Penelope. "Why don't you ever help me find a boyfriend?"

"Sit the hell down, Kellie." Penelope rose. "You're embarrassing yourself."

"Don't tell me what to do! Ever since you became this great hockey player for Ardenturo you haven't had any time for me, and I'm sick of it!"

"Well maybe I would help you try to find a boyfriend if you weren't such a brat!"

Kellie Hale shook with anger. She reached down and grabbed a pastry.

"Go to hell, you stuck-up bitch!" Kellie reared back her arm.

"Miss Hale!" Headmistress Esmeralda's voice boomed from the faculty table at the front of the hall. "The Communal Hall is no place to hold family squabbles . . . and the food in here is for eating, not throwing. I want the both of you in my office, now!"

Penelope whipped her head toward her younger sister. "Nice going, you little harpy."

"Not another word!" the Headmistress bellowed. "Either of you. My office, now!"

O'Bannon and his friends watched the Hale sisters follow Headmistress Esmeralda out of the Communal Hall. Both girls pouted severely.

"Merlin's Beard, is there something in the water making everyone act like that?"

Rana probably meant it tongue-in-cheek. But for O'Bannon, the comment belied something very serious.

_Hurry up, Tonks, before the whole school explodes._

**XXXXX**

O'Bannon found it hard to concentrate in any of his classes, his thoughts, his prayers really, turning toward Tonks discovering the source of the bad vibes. Anxiousness welled up inside as he expected to be called out of class because Katerina Ponce wanted a word with him. He constantly stared at his watch. Any minute Tonks would give him the good news. Any minute now.

The minutes stretched into hours. Anxiousness turned to worry. His school work suffered. Mr. Korvette reamed his ass when his Aging Reversal Potion erupted and burned a hole through the ceiling. In Transfiguration, when he tried a spell to blend into the background of the classroom, he wound up turning into a puke yellow and brown plaid humanoid figure.

_Hurry the hell up, Tonks. Before I turn myself into a human-sized slug._

Day turned into night. Still no word from Tonks. When he went to bed he lay awake as long as he could, hoping she would come by with news about the bad vibes.

O'Bannon finally gave in to sleep well after midnight.

The next morning he awoke in a foul mood.

_Tomorrow my ass._ He started to wonder about Tonks' abilities. How could a klutz like her become an auror? Family connections, maybe?

O'Bannon ate breakfast and sat through History of Magic and Charms without hearing from her. He headed back to Blazenrowe to put his books away and go to lunch when he heard a familiar, fake Southern accent behind him.

"Excuse me, Mister O'Bannon?"

He halted, electricity shooting through his body.

_Oh my God. Oh my God, finally._

He whirled around and saw Tonks, in her Katerina Ponce disguise, approaching.

"Hi, again. I was wondering if I could trouble y'all for a moment," she said for the benefit of other students walking around them. "I've got some questions about your Charms class. Could you come to my office for a bit?"

"You bet."

O'Bannon found himself walking so fast he nearly overtook Tonks. She led him to the large red and white colonial-style Administration Building. They went downstairs to a small office in the basement that had a scratched up desk and a rickety wooden chair.

"Wow. They went all out for you," O'Bannon gazed around the cramped office.

"It's not much, but at least it's in an out of the way spot," Tonks replied, still retaining her Southern accent.

O'Bannon shook his head. "Jeez, who decided you should have a Southern accent with that disguise?"

"Arthur Weasley showed me some Muggle videos." Tonks began to change back to her real form. "I rather fancied the accents in _Steel Magnolias. _It was better than those awful New York accents from _NYPD Blue._ Anyway, you should talk. Has anyone in New England ever heard of the letter "R"?"

"Ha, ha. Very funny. Anyway, please tell me you have good news."

Tonks frowned. "I'm sorry, Jimmy. I checked every bit of food you gave me, even snuck back into the kitchen and examined it for any trace of dark magic. Nothing. The food hasn't been tainted."

O'Bannon's body froze. He stared blankly at Tonks for several seconds. "I . . . but . . . but this was the only way they could affect everyone at Salem. You said so yourself."

"I know. But there's nothing wrong with the food. I also checked the school's water supply. That's fine, too."

O'Bannon sighed and leaned against the faded brick wall. "Then what the hell could it be?"

"I don't know." Tonks shook her head.

"Friggin' great!" O'Bannon pushed himself off the wall. "Now we're back to square one."

"Look, I'll talk to your headmistress. Maybe she'll have some idea of what could be affecting your classmates, and how it's being done." Tonks' mouth twisted. "Dammit. I thought for sure it would have been the food."

"Yeah. Me too."

Tonks ran a hand over the back of her head. "We'll just have to press on. Meantime, I'm going to have to make a recommendation to Headmistress Esmeralda."

"What?"

"I heard about some of the rows that went on yesterday around the Communal Hall. There were also two classes where students almost got into fistfights. Whatever's affecting everyone around here seems to be getting worse. If we don't get to the bottom of this and soon, I'm afraid we might see a full-scale riot."

"I won't argue with you there."

"So," Tonks continued. "I'm thinking it might be a good idea to cancel all large-scale gatherings like sporting events and dances."

O'Bannon blinked. "What? Why?"

"Because those sorts of events can be very emotionally charged. The last thing we need are hundreds of teenagers, whose emotions are usually wonky to begin with, in a place where those emotions can easily get out of control."

O'Bannon swallowed. He stepped toward Tonks' desk. "Okay. I can see about sporting events, but dances? C'mon, they're supposed to be fun."

"Unless you don't have a date, or maybe the boy or girl you think you should be dancing with is dancing with someone else. Or you and your date wind up arguing. If that happens with a few dozen people, or a hundred, we could be looking at a very dangerous, very violent situation."

O'Bannon barely paid any attention to Tonks. All he could think about was Rana, and how much both of them looked forward to going to the Halloween Dance . . . together.

"Tonks, wait. Just reconsider, please."

"I'm sorry, Jimmy. I have to think about the safety of the students here."

"Okay, yeah. I understand. But understand where we're coming from. The teachers have been working our asses off since we got back to Salem. We've hardly had any breaks, especially us Seventh Years. Look, we need some kind of distraction. Some place to blow off steam."

"The last thing I want is you lot blowing off steam."

"No, no." O'Bannon waved his hands in front of him. "That's not what I meant. I mean, we gotta have some kind of fun. Something to take our mind off school and everything. And so many kids are looking forward to this. Tonks, if you cancel this dance, you could wind up with a riot anyway."

Tonks bobbed her head from side-to-side.

"Look," O'Bannon continued. "The whole faculty is gonna be at this dance. Any trouble pops up, they can take care of it before it gets out of hand. C'mon, please."

Tonks took a couple deep breaths. "Well, you are right. The faculty will be there. And I do remember what it's like to have your professors pile so much homework on you, you feel like you're drowning. For all we know, maybe having some fun is the best way to counter whatever is happening around here."

O'Bannon grinned and bounced on the balls of his feet.

"All right. I won't recommend to Headmistress Esmeralda that she cancel your Halloween Dance."

"Yes! Thank you!" He almost leaped on Tonks and hugged her, but restrained himself.

O'Bannon strode away from the Administration Building wearing a huge grin. True, they still had no clue what was behind these bad vibes. But Tonks should be able to find out soon enough.

At least she decided not to advise Headmistress Esmeralda to cancel Halloween Dance, and in turn cancel his big date with Rana. He gave himself a mental pat on the back for convincing Tonks to change her mind.

No way in hell would he let anyone or anything come between him, Rana and the Halloween Dance.

_TO BE CONTINUED: I know I promised an explosion in this chapter. My apologies. But rest assured that will happen in the next chapter._


	14. Chapter 14

The incident involving the Hale sisters turned out to be the last straw for Headmistress Esmeralda. O'Bannon knew the old witch was aware of some outside force affecting the students' behavior. But since Tonks hadn't discovered the cause, Esmeralda decided she had to do something before the entire school came unglued.

She made examples of the Hale sisters. Along with doing lines during their week of detention, both girls also had to clean the animal pens for the Care of Magical Creatures Class.

"You wouldn't believe how much crap a hippogriff can produce," O'Bannon overheard Penelope Hale say during breakfast one morning.

Three days after the Hale sisters tried to rip one another apart, Ira Ixler and Mario Hernandez, Beaters for the Krallenhurst and Ardenturo Quidditch teams respectively, almost came to blows in the middle of Herbology Class. Both were suspended from Quidditch indefinitely, given two weeks detention and made to clean the Communal Hall with nothing more than a bucket of soapy water and sponges.

"Does anyone else care to see what I have in store for you if you can't control your temper?" Headmistress Esmeralda warned them one night at dinner.

O'Bannon hoped the warning would be enough to get everyone to behave.

One day after Seventh Year Seminar, Tonks caught up with him to give an update on her progress . . . or lack thereof.

"I've been going through every potion and curse book I can in your library, but I haven't come across anything that would explain these 'bad vibes' you like to call them. I'm going to get in touch with some members of the Order and your Guild of the Light, witches and wizards who are experts in Potions and Defense Against the Dark Arts. Maybe they can come up with something."

O'Bannon grumbled his acknowledgement. Inside the frustration mounted at taking so long to find the source of the bad vibes.

As the days went by, everyone at Salem heeded the Headmistress' warning and kept their anger in check. No more harsh punishments were handed down. After a while, O'Bannon's anxiousness for Tonks to discover the cause of the bad vibes also eased.

_Maybe we can beat this thing ourselves._

The calmer atmosphere allowed him to concentrate more on hockey. He and the rest of the Blazenrowe team put their disastrous season opener behind them and had several good practices. O'Bannon made sure to keep an extra eye on Marcel Dubuque for any more signs of mutinous behavior. While his alternate captain maintained his usual sullen mood, he did nothing that could be considered detrimental to the team.

And the team was really starting to come together. O'Bannon didn't sense the same kind of chemistry he experienced with the Triad back at Hogwarts. Maybe that would develop as the season progressed.

What chemistry Blazenrowe did have served them well in their second game of the season as they crushed Jingosocke Hall 6-2. O'Bannon had two goals and an assist, as did Blazenrowe's Second Year sensation Jerome Dionne.

Blazenrowe's sporting success continued the next day when the Quidditch team smoked Ardenturo 230-180. O'Bannon went nuts when Rana Rollingsworth finished the game by coming up under Ardenturo's Seeker, going vertical and shooting barely a foot in front of her opposite number to grab the Golden Snitch.

"That was one wicked pissah of a move!" O'Bannon threw his arms around Rana when she emerged from the Blazenrowe tent.

"Thanks, Jimmy." She hugged him tightly.

As O'Bannon savored the soft feel of Rana's hair against his cheek, he glimpsed Gregory Lancemore staring past two other boys who congratulated him on the victory. The Blazenrowe Quidditch captain's face tightened, his harsh gaze targeting O'Bannon.

He smirked at Lancemore before turning his attention back to Rana. He gazed into her face. Even with her wind blown hair and a purple bruise on her cheek where the Ardenturo Seeker elbowed her earlier in the game, she still looked beautiful.

He leaned in.

"Jimmy . . ." Rana put a hand on his chest. "I . . . I want . . . this isn't the place. I want it to be special."

He groaned in frustration. He could accept Rana wanting to take things slow, but not so slow as to make a tortoise look like a cheetah.

If Rana had noticed his annoyance, she didn't say anything. Then again, she did get mobbed by several Blazenrowe residents congratulating her on her brilliant maneuver to catch the Snitch.

The celebration moved from the Quidditch field to the Blazenrowe Hall parlor. O'Bannon tuned out the cacophony of animated voices and scanned the crowd for one person in particular.

He spotted Rosa Infante, leaning against one of the stylish high back chairs talking to a tall muscular guy with dark hair. O'Bannon recognized him as one of the Beaters for Blazenrowe, an exchange student from Poland. Stashorsh or Stachick or something like that. He weaved his way through the mass of humanity and finally reached Rosa, who gazed at the Pole with a huge smile.

"Hey, Rosa. You got a sec?"

"I'm kinda busy here, Jimmy." She never took her eyes off Sta-whatever-the-hell-his-name-was.

"It's important. Please?"

Rosa sighed loudly. "Could you excuse me for a sec? My . . . cousin is having another crisis."

O'Bannon cocked an eyebrow. _Cousin?_

"It is no problem," the Pole said with an understanding smile.

"Great. I'll be right back. Don't move from this spot."

The two left the parlor and headed upstairs.

"Cousin?" O'Bannon turned to Rosa before they reached the landing.

"Did you get a look at Stashork? He's gorgeous. I don't want him thinking you're my boyfriend or a jealous ex-boyfriend. That would totally blow my chance with him."

When they reached the landing, Rosa folded her arms and leaned against the wall under a moving portrait of two ladies in white 19th Century-style dresses having tea on an outdoor patio.

"Now, what's so important you have to interrupt my quality time with a hottie like Stashork?"

O'Bannon sighed, then explained to her Rana's reluctance to kiss him after the Quidditch game.

"I mean, we're holding hands, we kiss on the cheek. What the hell does she have against a liplock for Merlin's sake?"

"Jimmy, just relax. Rana is totally into you. I can tell."

"But not enough to want to kiss?"

"Look, a first kiss is very important to a girl. I'm sure she wants it to be special."

"That's what she told me," O'Bannon said.

"Okay. Well, I don't think a Quidditch game is the most romantic place for your first kiss."

O'Bannon canted his head. "But she's a Quidditch player. Hell, her parents own the Boston Bandits. If any place would be special to a girl like that it would be a Quidditch game."

"Argh!" Rosa looked to the ceiling and shook her head. "Why are boys so dense?"

O'Bannon's face contorted in confusion. "What?"

"I understand your frustration, dear," said one of the women in the portrait. "Men simply do not know the proper way to win a woman's heart."

"Amen." Rosa looked back at O'Bannon. "Look. Rana really likes you. She wants her first kiss with you to be memorable. And having it at, say, the Halloween Dance, preferably during a slow dance, will be more special to her than doing it after a Quidditch game. Don't you agree?"

"Yeah, I guess. I just can't believe it's taken this long to get to our first kiss."

"Well look at it from her perspective. She and Darius Forten were together for two years. Quite frankly, I thought those two would wind up getting married after they left Salem. When he cheated on her, that ripped Rana's heart to pieces. After that kind of betrayal, she might be hesitant, maybe even a little afraid, of jumping into another relationship. I think she's in a feeling out process with you. She wants to make sure you really are a good guy before she takes that next step."

"We've known one another since First Year," O'Bannon said. "You'd think she'd know by now whether or not I was a good guy."

"There's a big difference between being friends and being lovers."

Rosa pushed herself off the wall and took a couple steps toward him. "Do you care about Rana?"

"Of course I do."

"Then be patient, and be understanding and a little sensitive."

The corners of O'Bannon's mouth twisted. "Can I be understanding and sensitive without turning into a wuss?"

Rosa groaned in exasperation. "Yes, Jimmy. You can be understanding and sensitive without turning into a wuss."

He bobbed his from side-to-side. "Okay, I'm down with that."

"Good. Rana will appreciate that. Trust me."

"Thanks, Rosa."

"No problem." She started toward the steps. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have to get back to Stashork before another girl swoops in and steals him from me."

Rosa practically flew down the stairs.

"I hope you heed your friend's advice," said the woman in the portrait. "If you desire a healthy relationship, that is."

O'Bannon gazed at the woman, who stared back with her hands on her hips, apparently awaiting his response.

Hell yeah he wanted a healthy relationship with Rana. But he wondered if he could wait until the Halloween Dance for that first kiss without exploding.

_If you don't want to mess things up, you will._

"Don't worry," he nodded to the woman. "I'm gonna heed the hell out of that advice."

The woman beamed at O'Bannon as he proceeded down the stairs and back to the parlor, where the victory celebration showed no sign of ending soon. He glimpsed Rana talking to two little girls who had to be First Years. They listened intently as she used her hands to show how she outmaneuvered the Ardenturo Seeker to get the snitch.

O'Bannon just watched her, absorbing her energy, her beauty. His heart hammered against his chest.

There was no doubt in his mind the Halloween Dance would be a night both of them would always remember.

**XXXXX**

The day of the dance, O'Bannon nearly cheered when his alarm clock woke him. He felt as though his blood had turned to rocket fuel, coursing through his body, invigorating him. He also couldn't stop smiling. He doubted a curse existed that could remove the smile from his face.

He paid scant attention in his classes. The same could be said for many others. O'Bannon noticed several students gazing around with expressions associated more with daydreaming than concentration. Apparently the teachers picked up on this, for their lessons that day were so rudimentary a First Year could have completed them. The only exception, no surprise, was Mr. Korvette. But the Potions teacher seemed one of those people who felt if he wasn't happy, then no one on the planet should be happy.

The very difficult Vampire Repellent Potion, and Mr. Korvette's yelling when he messed it up, couldn't get O'Bannon down. Nothing could on this day, the day he took Rana to the Halloween Dance. The day he and Rana would, without a doubt, have their first kiss.

Most of the students ate dinner quickly and hurried back to their dorms to get ready for the dance. A hole formed in the pit of O'Bannon's stomach when he looked around his room while changing into his costume.

Artimus wasn't around.

_Is he even going to the dance?_ A pang of guilt hit him for not knowing what his friend would be doing. He would have asked Jared or Rosa, but Artimus wasn't talking to them either. O'Bannon knew Rosa tried twice over the past week to approach Artimus to patch things up. Both times he rebuffed her.

_Friggin' Cecilia Malfoy._ What the hell kind of crap was she feeding Art to turn him against them all . . . and why the hell was he buying it?

O'Bannon sighed. Nothing much he could do about it right now. He needed to focus on the dance, on Rana. But he swore after tonight, he would resolve whatever issues existed between him and Artimus.

And he'd find out once and for all what Cecilia and her snake friend Serinta were doing to turn everyone at Salem against each other.

"So what do you think?" Jared called from across the room.

O'Bannon turned . . . and drew his head back in surprise.

Jared wore a bright pink shirt, a brown sweater vest and bluejeans. On his head sat a bowler hat, while a toy flintlock dangled from his belt. Army boots with bells tied to them covered his feet.

"Okaaaay. What are you supposed to be?"

"I'm a Muggle cowboy!" Jared pumped a fist into the air and hollered, "Yappie Yip-Yip Yay!"

O'Bannon's mouth hung open silently. He stared dumbfounded at his friend for many long seconds. Jared just stood there, still grinning.

"Dude," O'Bannon finally said. "For tonight, I don't know you, okay."

He headed for the door, with Jared saying, "What? I got it right, didn't I? Listen. Gibby up, bugaroo!"

O'Bannon slapped his forehead, shook his head and hurriedly left the room. Jared followed, still trying to impress him with more cowboy jargon like, "Haddy, pardner" and "Go along, little duggies."

"Where did you get all this stuff from?" O'Bannon demanded when he could no longer take it.

"From Mister Lymstock, the Muggle Studies teacher."

O'Bannon groaned. "Call me crazy, but did it ever occur to anyone that the best person to teach Muggle Studies might be, I don't know, a Muggle-born?"

Jared laughed and gave him a dismissive wave.

They descended the stairs and headed into the parlor. Rosa stood by one of the sofas wearing a pink sleeveless gown, a tiara and cone-shaped earrings that changed color whenever the light struck them.

O'Bannon's entire body quivered when he saw Rana sitting on the couch. She changed the color of her hair from brown to bleach blond with streaks of green and gold that matched the Quidditch robes she wore. O'Bannon recognized the crest on the left side of Rana's robes; an arrow trailing flames that formed the word ARCHERS. The logo of the Atlanta Archers of the U.S. Quidditch Association.

"Oh no way." Jared gawked at her. "You're dressed up as Charlotte Chivero?"

"Only the best Seeker in the world. Though you wouldn't believe how long it took me to get the hair right." Rana got to her feet, eyed O'Bannon, and struck a pose. "So, do you like?"

"Oh yeah. Very much."

Rana shot him the prettiest smile he'd ever seen.

"So what about you?" She looked him over. "What are you supposed to be?"

"Well you said to come as something other than a hockey player. So . . ." He glanced down at his white sweatpants, Boston Red Sox jersey and baseball bat. "I'm Nomar Garciaparra." As with all Bostonians, the name came out as, _"Nomah Gah-see-ah-paarah."_

"Who?"

"The shortstop for the Boston Red Sox, who's a thousand times better than that pudwacker for the Yankees Derek Jeter."

"Merlin's Beard." Rana giggled.

"Hey. It's better than the retarded cowboy next to me." He nodded to Jared.

"Mister Lymstock said this was exactly how Muggle cowboys looked back in the Nineteenth Century."

"Yeah," O'Bannon scoffed. "If they were on crack."

"I think it looks great." Rana shot Jared a supportive smile.

"Thank you, Rana." He bowed to her.

O'Bannon shook his head. _Purebloods._

Stashork entered the parlor a few minutes later, dressed as Mr. Spock from _Star Trek._ Either the Pole was Muggle-born or he had a Muggle-born friend who introduced him to the TV show. Either way, he looked a hell of a lot more like Mr. Spock than Jared looked like a cowboy.

While Rosa and Stashork talked, Jared's date arrived, a short cocoa-skinned girl from their Theoretical Magic Class named Michelle Bunker. She was dressed as a Gorgon, complete with moving snakes on her head.

"I wish Artimus was here," Rosa said as they exited Blazenrowe Hall. The chilly October air surrounded them immediately. "I don't even know if he's going to be at the dance."

"I feel bad for Gregory Lancemore, too."

The left side of O'Bannon's face twitched when Rana mentioned that name. Why the hell should she care about Lancemore when she was with him?

"Why?" Rosa glanced from Rana to the ground, ever alert for Feetish.

"The other day when we were working on our History of Magic project, he told me he couldn't find a date to the dance."

"Whoa!" Jared skidded to a halt, startling Michelle. "The Ladies Man of Salem couldn't get a date? No friggin' way."

"It's the truth. And when I asked him about it he just got real withdrawn."

A smile creased O'Bannon's lips. He enjoyed the thought of Gregory Lancemore sitting by himself in his dorm room while he took the sexiest Seeker in this or any other Wizarding school to the Halloween Dance.

O'Bannon's eyes widened when he saw how the Communal Hall was decorated for the dance. Bats zigzagged around the Jack O'Lanterns that floated above the dimly lit room. A large phosphorescent spider web clung to the ceiling, with an obviously fake giant spider clutching a life-sized mannequin. Cobwebs hung from the walls and windows. Autumn leaves were strewn across the floor. A large bubbling cauldron in the front of the room produced white smoke that carried the scents of various candies and other sweets. Above the cauldron hovered a stage for a DJ who pumped out loud music. Nearly a hundred students packed the middle of the room, dancing with reckless abandon.

"What are we waiting for, gang?" Jared clamped a hand on O'Bannon's and Rosa's shoulders. "Let's join the party."

No one argued with him. They made their way to the center of the Communal Hall and joined the dancing. O'Bannon was very impressed by the DJ, who played a mix of Wizarding and Muggle music.

_Never thought I'd hear the Weird Sisters and George Clinton in the same place._

After a half-hour they headed over to the buffet, where students already there complimented Jared on his cowboy costume while giving O'Bannon's get-up queer looks.

"Cowboys didn't even have flintlocks," he complained to Rana as she ate a pumpkin pastie. "They had six-shooters. And they wore cowboy boots with spurs, not Army boots with bells."

"Well, it's a good thing we have a Muggle-born like you to set us poor ignorant purebloods straight." Rana smiled and patted his arm.

"Ha ha."

Both of them fell against one another, laughing. O'Bannon slid his arm around Rana's back and closed his eyes, losing himself in the softness of her hair against his chin. He could stay like this all night and not complain.

"All right, time to slow down the pace," the DJ's voice boomed throughout the Communal Hall. "So get with your special someone and swoon to one of the greatest Muggle love songs ever."

A second later the soft, melodious tones of _Unchained Melody_ by the Righteous Brothers swept over everyone.

"Shall we?" O'Bannon pointed toward the dance floor.

"Definitely." Rana smiled sweetly.

As he took her hand and led her to the dance floor, O'Bannon caught sight of Rosa, who gave him a thumbs up.

His heart hammered in his chest. He prayed his palms wouldn't start to sweat, especially since he was holding Rana's hand.

In his anxiousness to get to the dance floor he somehow missed a tall guy dressed as a Yeti standing in front of him.

"Sorry," O'Bannon said after bumping into him.

The guy turned around . . . and just stared at him. With all the hair on his face O'Bannon couldn't tell if he knew the guy or not.

The Yeti continued to stare.

_I said I'm sorry. Yeesh._

O'Bannon kept going. The Yeti stared after him for a few more seconds, then turned to a girl dressed as a geisha . . . a geisha in a blue bathrobe with yellow flowers.

_Gotta be a pureblood._

He forgot about the Yeti as he wrapped his arms around Rana. Her hands slid up his shoulders and to the back of his neck. They slowly spun in a circle as the classic love song played.

"_Oh, my love, my darling. I've hungered for your touch, a long, lonely time."_

"You really look great, Rana."

"Thanks. So do you, even if I have no idea who this _No-mah_ guy is."

"I guess there's only one way to rectify that."

Rana cocked her head. "How?"

"By taking you to a Red Sox game one day."

A smile spread across Rana's face. "I think it would be fun to watch a Muggle game . . . especially with you."

She ran her hand up and down the back of O'Bannon's neck. Electric tingles shot through his body.

"Jimmy . . ." Rana's mouth hung open in hesitation for a second. "I . . . I know you've been wanting to get more . . . intimate, and I've been a little hesitant. Please don't think I was being rude or anything. It's just . . . Darius and I were together for so long. And after what he did with Ivy Chatham . . . I never felt so betrayed, so embarrassed in my life. And you've always been such a sweet guy. But I just wanted to . . . I don't know, I guess I needed to get to know you better than I already did before I decided whether or not to get serious with you."

O'Bannon's face froze in astonishment. My God, Rana pretty much repeated Rosa's words to him after the Quidditch game.

_Damn. She is good._ At that moment he realized that all guys needed at least one platonic girlfriend they could go to for advice on unraveling that age-old mystery known as "women."

"So. "What's the verdict?"

One second became an eternity as O'Bannon waited for Rana's answer. The sound of his heartbeat drowned out the singing of the Righteous Brothers. Hot and cold flashes dueled throughout his body.

He felt Rana draw a deep breath. "I think you'd make a terrific boyfriend."

He didn't even try to stop the huge grin forming on his face. The back of his legs quivered. His eyes stayed locked on Rana's smiling face.

O'Bannon tilted his head and leaned in. Rana didn't stop him this time.

His lips met hers. Time stopped. The music and dancing couples around him vanished. The only thing that existed was the soft, moist feel of Rana's lips.

When they finally separated, O'Bannon said softly, "You know. This was worth the wait."

They kissed again. Rana then leaned against him, her head resting on his shoulder. O'Bannon laid his cheek on Rana's hair and closed his eyes. In that moment, the universe became perfect. There was no Cecilia and Serinta, no angry Artimus, no bad vibes, no war, no Voldemort.

Only Rana Rollingsworth existed.

Another slow song followed _Unchained Melody._ O'Bannon vaguely recognized it. Some witch singer. He didn't know who. It didn't matter. He just hoped the DJ played slow songs all night long.

Once the slow song ended, however, the DJ went back to playing loud, hard-driving music.

"Hey, Rana." O'Bannon bit his lower lip for a moment. "Um, you wanna go outside for a walk?"

Rana cocked an eyebrow. "When you say, 'go for a walk,' are you really saying, 'do you want to make out?'"

O'Bannon's jaw dropped. "Uhhh . . . ahhh . . . Well, um . . . I mean . . ."

Rana spared him from further sputtering. She took his hands and started to lead him off the dance floor. "There's a little hill not far from here that overlooks the lake. It's always beautiful under the moonlight."

O'Bannon said nothing. He just let Rana guide him to the exit.

"Rana!"

The voice sparked anger within O'Bannon. Before he could do anything to stop it that spark grew into an inferno. To hell with it. He didn't want to stop it. He had every right to be angry as friggin' Gregory Lancemore stomped toward them.

"Gregory?" A quizzical look formed on Rana's face. "What are you doing here?"

"How can you choose him over me?" Lancemore glared at O'Bannon. "What the hell's so special about O'Bannon?"

A few students turned their way. O'Bannon's head shook with rage.

Rana spoke before he could. "Gregory, what is wrong with you?"

"How could you say no to me?" Lancemore hollered. "No girl says no to me."

"Look, I've told you I don't know how many times." Rana's tone grew harsher. "We are just friends, okay. I -"

"Friends my ass! You're always smiling at me, laughing at my jokes, you hug me longer than any other guy on the team when we win. And you wanna tell me we're just friends? You're a damn tease is what you are!"

"Back off right now, asshole!" O'Bannon stabbed a finger at Lancemore.

"Piss off, O'Bannon! Rana deserves a hell of a lot better than you. She deserves me!"

He reached out and grabbed Rana's arm.

"Gregory!" Rana pulled away from him.

"Get away from her!" O'Bannon grabbed a handful of Rana's robes and yanked her behind him. "She's not yours! She's mine!"

"Hey! Don't talk about me like I'm some damn possession."

O'Bannon spun around. "You're mine, Rana! You're my girlfriend now!"

"Leave her alone, O'Bannon!"

Through the blinding fury he recognized the voice. Breathing through clenched teeth, O'Bannon watched the tall guy in the Yeti suit approach, with the geisha following him.

"Oh, now you wanna talk to me, you friggin' traitor?" He barked at Artimus Rand.

"I'm a traitor? Why? Because I refuse to take your crap any more? Because I decided to stop letting you and Jared and Rosa twist me and manipulate me and make me feel like I'm helpless without the three of you!"

"Is that what this snake has been filling your empty head with?" He pointed to the geisha, who no doubt was Cecilia Malfoy.

"I am not stupid!" Artimus screamed. More and more students looked toward them.

Artimus turned to Rana. "If I were you, I'd dump this egotistical bastard before -"

"SHE IS NOT DUMPING ME!! SHE'S MY GIRLFRIEND NOW!! AND WE'RE LEAVING!!"

"No, _we're_ leaving!" Lancemore reached out for Rana. "Come on, Rana!"

Rage exploded within O'Bannon like a supernova, wiping away whatever traces of self-control remained. He spun around and landed a fist on Lancemore's jaw. The Quidditch captain stumbled backwards.

"Jimmy!?" Rana screamed. "What the hell's wrong with you!?"

A primal roar erupted from Lancemore. He charged O'Bannon and tackled him. Both boys fell to the floor, knocking down Artimus, who in turn knocked down Cecilia.

O'Bannon brought up his arms to his face and blocked two blows from Lancemore. Screaming with rage, he pushed Lancemore off him. He started to get to his feet when the Quidditch captain gave him a right hook to the jaw. The room spun. O'Bannon fought through the pain and sprang at Lancemore. The two rolled around the floor. The Communal Hall filled with screams.

"She's mine, you son-of-a-bitch! Mine!"

O'Bannon punched Lancemore in the side twice. The Quidditch captain rolled off him. O'Bannon glanced around the hall, expecting to see students either cheering him or telling him to stop.

Instead he saw Beatrice Hill grab Rana by the back of the hair.

"I can't believe you let a stupid boy wreck our friendship, you bitch!"

Beatrice threw Rana onto the floor. She jumped on the Seeker. Arms flailed as both girls clawed at one another like animals.

A loud crash caught O'Bannon's attention. Marcel Dubuque and Dante Marshall tumbled over the buffet table. Food and drinks cascaded onto the floor.

O'Bannon turned away and started toward Rana and Beatrice. Two bodies fell in front of him. He tripped over them before he could stop. O'Bannon rolled on his side and glimpsed Ursa Oberlin and Cindy Walker wailing and tearing at one another. A few feet from them, Isaac Pinder leaped on Jerome Dionne's back and rained fists down on the Second Year student.

All around him boys and girls paired off, punching and kicking and clawing.

"Stop it! Stop this now!" He heard teachers yell.

No one obeyed them.

O'Bannon's mouth exploded. His head snapped back, the coppery taste of blood in his mouth.

Gregory Lancemore drew back his fist for another punch.

O'Bannon blocked it and moved in. He smashed his knee into Lancemore's gut. As the Quidditch captain doubled over, O'Bannon smashed a forearm into the boy's back.

"RANA'S MINE!!" He hit Lancemore again. "MINE!!"

Sharp pain suddenly lashed O'Bannon's back. The air shot out his lungs. He sank to all fours.

As O'Bannon tried to inhale, he saw someone ushering Cecilia Malfoy out the door. Someone tall and blond.

Serinta Sejant.

"This is for six years of being your damn lapdog!"

O'Bannon looked up. His eyes flared in surprise when he saw Artimus holding a wooden chair over his head.

His long-time friend brought the chair down on O'Bannon's back.

_TO BE CONTINUED_


	15. Chapter 15

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: **_The following contains some sexual references. You have been warned._

* * *

_I will not start fights at school dances._

_I will not start fights at school dances._

_I will not start fights at school dances._

Jimmy O'Bannon set down his quill and flexed his sore hand. He'd been writing the same sentence for nearly an hour. He wondered how long he'd have to keep writing. Headmistress Esmeralda set no limit on lines or time. Basically, detention would be over when the old witch said it was over.

The same held true for the rest of them. O'Bannon gazed around the Communal Hall, jammed with nearly two hundred students, also doing lines. At one point his eyes rested on Gregory Lancemore, who scowled as he wrote.

_Friggin' jagoff. This is all his fault._

If he hadn't tried to steal Rana away from him . . .

Fury swelled within him. He shifted his gaze from Lancemore to Rana two tables away. Everything had been going fine between them until Lancemore showed up.

Now she didn't even want to look at him.

O'Bannon looked down the table. Anger lines contorted Rosa's face. He figured she was still pissed at him. Well, he wasn't too fond of her right now. Not only did she get jumped by two girls who thought they should be going out with the Polish Beater Stashork, but when she learned he actually started the brawl she lit into him.

"You thought that was the best way to handle it? By yelling and punching Gregory?"

The argument that followed ranked right up there with your typical Ron Weasley/Hermione Granger shouting fest back at Hogwarts.

_She wasn't around. She didn't see that friggin' a-hole try to move in on my girlfriend._

At least Jared was a little more understanding. Hell, he actually tackled Artimus before he could whack O'Bannon with the chair a third time.

O'Bannon rubbed his back. Despite Nurse Gillwick's healing spells, it still felt sore.

_At least I'm in better shape than Merak Mather._

The elitist prick was in the infirmary – again. This time the result of being thrown through a window by Eli Witting, who'd been screaming, "Keep your damn hands off Abigail" at the time.

O'Bannon continued to rub his back, anger contorting his face as he focused on Artimus.

His friend of over six years locked eyes with him. Artimus' hand shook as he pressed his quill against his parchment. For a moment O'Bannon thought the tip would go right through the table.

The two continued to glare at one another. There were two others O'Bannon wanted to glare at. Cecilia Malfoy and Serinta Sejant. But the Slytherins had booked out of the Communal Hall just as the brawl started.

_They're responsible for this, I'm sure._ Cecilia especially. What the hell did she do to turn Artimus against him? Imperius Curse? A potion? Maybe she was just boffing him. And if his change in attitude had nothing to do with magic, then what the hell did that say about Artimus? Could he be so easily manipulated that . . .

"Mister O'Bannon!" Headmistress Esmeralda's voice echoed through the hall. "No one told you to stop writing! Continue!"

O'Bannon grunted and picked up his quill.

_I will not start fights at school dances._

_I will not start fights at school dances._

He couldn't believe the Headmistress was making him and the others do this. She knew about these bad vibes . . . or at least the theory of the bad vibes. The brawl couldn't be blamed on any of them.

_Except Cecilia and Serinta._

They had to be behind this. And if Tonks would get off her lazy ass they could do something to stop those Slytherin bitches.

Detention finally came to an end half-an-hour later . . . at least the writing part of it. Next came the crap detail. Headmistress Esmeralda came up with a variety of tasks for them, from cleaning the owlery to removing fallen leaves to cleaning all the bathrooms . . . without using magic.

O'Bannon got saddled with the owlery.

On his way there, he and the other students noticed a parliament of owls soaring over Salem, scattering in every direction.

"Oh crap," Dante Marshall moaned. "They're sending letters to our parents."

O'Bannon sighed and closed his eyes. He could only imagine how pissed Mom and Dad would be when his owl Espo arrived home. He'd gotten lectured over the summer for the trouble he got into at Hogwarts for helping Fred and George with their pranks. For throwing the first punch in a brawl that wound up on the front page of _The All-Seeing Eye, _he'd be lucky if his parents didn't ground him for all of Thanksgiving and Christmas Break.

The misery continued the next day. Every teacher piled homework on them, probably working on the theory the students would be too busy to start another melee. Mister Korvette did this with unbridled glee. It was the only time all semester O'Bannon had seen the s.o.b. happy.

Meals turned into quiet affairs. Conversation had been replaced by glares and resentful whispers. Everyone looked pissed at everyone else. Only Jared would sit by O'Bannon now. Rosa sat further down the table, while Artimus sat by himself at the far end.

"Don't you wish graduation was tomorrow?" Jared muttered as he spun his fork around in his mashed potatoes.

O'Bannon huffed. "I wish I was friggin' back at Hogwarts."

"What, better friends there than here?"

Anger raced up his throat and into his mouth. O'Bannon clenched his jaw, holding it in. Jared was one of the few people left at Salem who would actually talk to him. He didn't want to mess that up.

"Whatever." He went back to eating dinner. While chewing on his food he glanced at his watch. Two hours before he had to report to detention again. More lines, followed by cleaning the bathrooms. He wanted to finish eating soon so he could get some homework done before detention. He'd need every free minute this week to get through it. O'Bannon had a lot more free minutes as Headmistress Esmeralda suspended all Quidditch and hockey practices and games indefinitely, since nearly all the players for all four halls had been involved in the Halloween Dance brawl.

O'Bannon finished his dinner and looked around the table for dessert. Moments later he frowned.

_Oh yeah. I forgot._

The Headmistress had ordered the Servant Elves not to prepare any dessert for the foreseeable future. The old crone seemed determined to make his remaining time at Salem a living hell.

As O'Bannon got to his feet, a grayish Long-eared Owl swooped overhead. He recognized it immediately. Gasphart, Artimus' owl.

The bird flew over Artimus and dropped a bright red envelope into his hands.

O'Bannon held his breath. Those letters had been coming regularly all day. Ursa Oberlin and Isaac Pinder each got one at breakfast. Eli Witting and Beatrice Hill received them at lunch. Times like this O'Bannon was glad to be a Muggle-born.

His parents could never send him a Howler.

With shaking hands, Artimus slowly tore open the envelope.

"ARTIMUS GRATIAN RAND!!" Ulysses Rand's amplified voice reverberated throughout the Communal Hall. "WHAT IN THE NAME OF MERLIN IS GOING THROUGH THAT THICK HEAD OF YOURS? A FIGHT? YOU GOT INTO A FIGHT? AND A FIGHT THAT WOUND UP IN THE ALL-SEEING EYE!! DO YOU NOT HAVE AN OUNCE OF SENSE IN YOU? DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA HOW MUCH YOU EMBARRASSED OUR FAMILY? WE HAVE A REPUTATION TO UPHOLD!! AND IN ONE NIGHT YOU MANAGED TO RUIN IT!! I NEVER HAD THIS SORT OF TROUBLE WITH HORACE AND ARCADIUS WHEN THEY WERE GOING TO SALEM!! EVEN HECTOR NEVER DID ANYTHING THIS APPALLING!! WHY CAN'T YOU FOLLOW THEIR EXAMPLE? I TOLD YOU TO STAY AWAY FROM THAT MUGGLE-BORN O'BANNON AFTER HE STARTED SPOUTING THAT NONSENSE ABOUT YOU-KNOW-WHO RETURNING!! NOW LOOK WHERE IT'S GOTTEN YOU!! LOOK WHAT IT'S DONE TO THIS FAMILY!! I AM TELLING YOU RIGHT NOW!! YOU DO WHATEVER PUNISHMENT HEADMISTRESS ESMERALDA GIVES YOU, AND KEEP YOUR NOSE CLEAN FOR THE REST OF THE YEAR!! IF I HEAR YOU'VE CAUSED ONE MORE PROBLEM AT SCHOOL, I DON'T CARE HOW SMALL IT IS, THERE WILL BE HELL TO PAY!! DON'T TRY ME!!"

The Howler exploded into bright red confetti.

A hush fell over the room. All eyes were on Artimus, whose face lost all color. Trembling, he gazed at all the students and teachers watching him. The light from the chandeliers reflected off the moisture in his eyes.

With a slight gasp, he bolted from his seat and ran for the door.

"Man, those Howlers are no fun to get," Jared said.

O'Bannon simply nodded, even though part of him enjoyed watching Artimus' torment. Again, he had no idea if the thoughts were really his or from these damn bad vibes.

"I gotta go," he mumbled to Jared. "I got homework to do."

He took a step to the door and froze. A blond girl hurried through the door after Artimus. An intense flame of fury consumed his insides when he recognized the girl.

Cecilia Malfoy.

O'Bannon stomped after her. He had no idea what he would do or what he would say. Anger engulfed his brain, guided his actions. In some distant corner of his mind, a small voice called to him, telling him to settle down, to think things through.

The warning was lost in the emotional maelstrom that ruled his brain.

He marched through the door. In the fading daylight he spotted Cecilia at a fork in the dirt path. She turned left and right. "Artimus! Artimus!"

Sneering, O'Bannon tramped toward her.

"Artimus!" she called out again.

"Leave him alone!"

Cecilia spun around as O'Bannon neared her.

"Haven't you screwed up his head enough?"

The Slytherin girl fixed a harsh stare on him. "Is that what you think I've done?"

"Why the hell else would Artimus smash a chair across my back? Why else would he turn his back on Rosa and Jared?"

"Perhaps because he's learning to stand on his own two feet."

"Or maybe you just have him wrapped around your finger. What is it? An Imperius Curse, or are you just spreading your legs for him?"

Cecilia's face reddened. Her head trembled. "You really don't like this, do you, O'Bannon? You don't like the fact that Artimus is thinking for himself. You don't like the fact he doesn't need you and those idiot cousins to protect him from others, or to feel wanted. You don't like the fact that he's no longer around to fawn over the three of you and make you feel good about yourselves. It drives you crazy, doesn't it, that he's actually listening to someone other than the three of you."

"He's doing it because he's not in his right mind."

Cecilia threw her head back and laughed. "Oh, naturally. If Artimus doesn't listen to the all-mighty Jimmy O'Bannon he must be mental."

"You think I don't know what you and your snake friend are doing around here?" O'Bannon stabbed a finger at Cecilia. "All the arguing, all the tension. Kids who've never been in a fight in their lives suddenly taking swings at other kids. This whole school has been a powderkeg over the last month, and Saturday night it finally exploded."

"Maybe you Americans can't handle the stress of extra school work."

"Stress has nothing to do with it! Stress doesn't start a riot at a school dance. Stress doesn't make one of your best friends attack you with a friggin' chair. You and Serinta are doing something to everyone around here!"

"Now you're the mental one."

"Keep denying it. But I'm gonna find out exactly what you two snakes are doing and I'm gonna put an end to it!"

Cecilia scowled. "No wonder you can't convince anyone here about You-Know-Who returning. You're just as deranged as Harry Potter. If the students here are all barking mad, it's their fault, not mine or Serinta's. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm trying to find Artimus."

"Why? So you can fill his head with more lies."

"No! Because after getting that Howler he probably needs someone to talk to, and right now I seem to be the only person in this school who actually gives a damn about him!"

"Bullcrap! Since when do Slytherins care about anyone other than themselves?"

Cecilia glowered at him. "I don't have to justify myself to you. Now I'm going to find Artimus."

She spun on her heel.

O'Bannon's hand shot out and wrapped around Cecilia's arm. "You're not going anywhere near him, you Slytherin whore!"

"Let go of me!" Cecilia tried to tear herself from O'Bannon's grasp. He squeezed harder. The girl's face twisted in a mask of pain. Delight surfaced in O'Bannon's sea of rage. He wanted to see her in pain. He wanted to punish her for everything she'd done to Artimus, to the entire school.

"Let . . . me . . . GO!!"

Cecilia reached inside her robes for her wand.

O'Bannon let her go, stepped back and took out his wand.

Both their arms shot out. Their wands hovered less than two feet from their faces.

"Go ahead and hex me, O'Bannon," Cecilia dared him. "Maybe that will get the Headmistress to finally expel you."

"It'd be worth it if I can take out one of you Malfoys."

He took a quick breath and prepared to utter the first hex that came to mind.

"_Expelliarmus!"_

O'Bannon's wand flew out of his hand.

So did Cecilia's.

"What the hell are y'all doing?" shouted a harsh southern accent.

O'Bannon whipped his head to the left. Tonks, in her Katerina Ponce guise, stomped toward them.

"You two don't think you're being punished enough? Do you want to see what Headmistress Esmeralda will do if you hex one another?"

"At least I'm doing something productive, unlike you."

Tonks halted and shot O'Bannon a fiery gaze. She then snapped her head to Cecilia. "You. Collect your wand and get out of here."

With a parting glare at O'Bannon, Cecilia picked up her wand and stalked off.

When she was no longer in sight, Tonks marched up to O'Bannon. "What the bloody hell is wrong with you?"

"What?"

"I heard everything you said to Cecilia Malfoy. How could I not as loud as you were shouting? Are you trying to tip them off?"

"At least I'm doing more than you are."

Tonks' eyes narrowed. "Do you really think I've been sitting on me arse eating Chocolate Cauldrons for the last few weeks? I've been doing everything I can to find out what's been affecting everyone at this school."

"If that's the case, then why are Cecilia Malfoy and Serinta Sejant still walking around free?"

"We can't arrest them without evidence."

"Evidence!?" O'Bannon's threw his hands over his head. "They're Slytherins! What more evidence do you need? They're always up to something. I swear we should take every damn Slytherin, put 'em all on an island and drop a friggin' nuke on it. The world would be a better place without 'em."

"My mother was a Slytherin!"

The shock hit O'Bannon with a physical force. His wide eyes locked onto the furious Tonks.

"Wh-What?"

"When my mother was at Hogwarts, she was sorted into Slytherin."

O'Bannon canted his head. "But-But, if your mother was a Slytherin . . . I mean, you're in the Order of the Phoenix. You're fighting You-Know-Who."

"Do you think all Slytherins want to see You-Know-Who return to power? Do you think all Slytherins are evil, pureblood fanatics? For your information my mother _married _a Muggle-born. And for that she was disowned by her family, including her sister Narcissa. Is that name familiar to you?"

"Wha . . . wait. You mean Narcissa Malfoy? As in Draco Malfoy's mother? Your mom's related . . . _you're _related to the Malfoys?"

"Yes. It's not a fact I like to broadcast. But my mother didn't go with the rest of the family and support You-Know-Who. She opposed him, just like I am. You don't like it when witches and wizards make broad generalizations about Muggle-borns, do you?"

"Um, no," O'Bannon stammered.

"Then think next time before you lump all Slytherins together."

O'Bannon continued to stare at her. He still had a hard time digesting it. Tonks' mother, a Slytherin? How the hell . . .

He then thought back to that conversation with Jared several weeks ago, when O'Bannon said there were no decent Slytherins and Jared mentioned not every Gryffindor was the most noble and virtuous.

_If an asshole like Cormac McLaggen can get sorted into Gryffindor, then maybe someone like Tonks' mom can wind up in Slytherin._

Not that he knew a thing about the British auror's mother. But if she could marry a Muggle-born and raise a daughter who wound up in Hufflepuff of all houses . . .

"Um, what's going on here?"

O'Bannon snapped his head in the direction of the familiar, female voice. So did Tonks.

Standing about ten feet from them were Rosa and Jared.

"Wh-What are you guys doin' here?" a stunned O'Bannon asked.

"We saw you head off after Cecilia Malfoy." Rosa approached him, Jared following. "So we followed you to make sure you didn't do anything stupid."

O'Bannon's face scrunched in anger. Why did Rosa always feel the need to act like his mother?

"So what the hell were you guys going on about?" Jared eyeballed at Tonks/Ponce. "What's this about your mother winding up in Slytherin and marrying a Muggle-born? And how the hell can you be related to the Malfoys?"

Tonks furrowed her brow at O'Bannon. "Wonderful. Now I have no choice but to tell them."

"That's what I told you we should have done from the start."

Sighing, Tonks changed back to her spiky purple hair and heart-shaped face, and told Rosa and Jared about her mission and the "bad vibes."

"Why the hell didn't you tell us all this before?" Jared narrowed his eyes at O'Bannon. "I thought we were in this together. Don't you trust us?"

"I told Jimmy not to tell you," said Tonks. "Security reasons. The fewer people who knew the better. But now that you two know about this, let's go to my office."

"What for?" Rosa folded her arms.

"Because, and this may come as a surprise to some people . . ." Tonks glowered at O'Bannon. "I actually found out what's causing all the discontent at this school."

O'Bannon straightened immediately. His heart began to race. His anger diminished.

_We know? We finally know?_

"Come on."

The three followed Tonks across campus to the Administration Building. Along with his excitement at unraveling the mystery of Salem's air of disharmony, he still tried to wrap his mind around Tonks' other revelation.

_Her mom was a Slytherin?_

But what were the qualities of a Slytherin? Cunning, looking out for number one, the acquisition of power . . . and from everything he saw at Hogwarts, a loathing of Muggle-borns.

_But Tonks' mom married a Muggle-born._

After dealing with the likes of Draco Malfoy, Pansy Parkinson, Crabbe and Goyle and Urquhart, he had a hard time believing the Sorting Hat would put someone decent into Slytherin.

_But look at Neville Longbottom. He doesn't seem the bravest guy in the world, and he's in Gryffindor. Luna Lovegood is the biggest space cadet I've ever met, and she's in Ravenclaw. So how far-fetched is it someone who isn't an asshole can wind up in Slytherin?_

They all filed into Tonks' cramped office. After Jared closed the door, Tonks sat on her desk and looked at O'Bannon. "Remember when I told you I sent owls to members of the Order and the Guild who are experts in potions and Defense Against the Dark Arts?"

"Yeah."

"Well, the one thing I told them to look for was any potion that can affect a person's emotions which has as one of its ingredients asp scales."

O'Bannon's eyes widened. So did Jared's and Rosa's.

"Wait a minute." Rosa held up a hand. "Mister Korvette's been bitching for weeks about someone stealing asp scales from his classroom."

"Exactly." Tonks pointed at her. "Whoever was mixing this potion probably ran out of them and had to nip them from your Potions Class."

"So what is this potion?" O'Bannon asked impatiently.

"It's called a Projection Potion. Professor Snape was the one who came across it."

"Wait. Professor Snape?" O'Bannon shook his head in disbelief. "As in the Potions teacher at Hogwarts? As in the greasy-haired a-hole who hates everything that's not Slytherin? He's in the order?"

"That's right. Surprising, isn't it?" Tonks said without smiling.

O'Bannon wanted to say more, but held his tongue. _Snape? In the Order of the Phoenix? Are they that desperate for members?_

"I've never even heard of a Projection Potion," Rosa noted.

"That's no surprise." Tonks shifted on her desk. "The potion wouldn't be found in any of your textbooks. It was created in Britain during the big war, but You-Know-Who was defeated before it could be put to use. After that, all information regarding the Projection Potion was secreted away."

"Until now," Jared said.

"Unfortunately, yes." Tonks nodded.

"So what does this Projection Potion do?" Rosa asked.

"It takes the most negative emotions a person has and projects them onto another. Jealousy, resentment, bitterness. If a person consumed with jealousy drinks the potion and walks past someone, any sort of jealous feelings that someone has, even on a subconscious level, will be magnified a hundred-fold."

"And whoever's been drinking this potion has been walking around Salem for over a month." O'Bannon rubbed the back of his head. "My God, this is like the Wizarding World's version of biological warfare."

Jared held out his hands anxiously. "So do you know who's been using this potion?"

"Yes, especially when you consider who created it."

The three of them stared at Tonks with expectant looks.

"The woman who created the Projection Potion was considered one of the most gifted potion makers to ever come out of Slytherin House. Even better than Professor Snape. In fact, she's related to me."

O'Bannon cocked an eyebrow. "I take it it's not your mom."

"No. It's one of my aunts. Aunt Narcissa to be precise."

"I knew it." O'Bannon sneered and shook his head. "Draco's mom, and Cecilia's aunt."

Tonks pushed herself off the desk. "I think it's time we paid our Slytherin exchange students a little visit."

"No you're talking." O'Bannon clapped his hands and rubbed them together.

"Yeah." Jared moved to the door. "Let's get 'em before everyone here decides to re-enact the British goblin riots."

He opened the door.

The closing of another door made everyone freeze.

"What the hell?" Tonks bolted past them. She stopped in the corridor and stared up the steps leading to the first floor. O'Bannon, Rosa and Jared crowded around her.

Wands out, all four rushed upstairs. They checked the first floor hallway. It was empty. Tonks flung open the front door and swept her wand left to right. O'Bannon also scanned the area around the Administration Building. He found no sign of anyone.

"Wait. Look." Rosa aimed the lighted tip of her wand at a flower bed alongside the Administration Building. The glow revealed a fresh footprint in the dirt.

"Dammit!" Tonks snarled. "Someone was eavesdropping on us."

Rosa let her wand drop to her side. "And no one thought to cast a Muffling Charm on the room, did they?"

O'Bannon saw Tonks stare at the footprint with the most hideous-looking scowl he'd ever seen.

* * *

_TO BE CONTINUED_


	16. Chapter 16

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: **_The following contains some slight sexual references. You have been warned. Also, I don't own Harry Potter or the Harry Potter Universe, but Jimmy O'Bannon and the characters at the Salem Witches Institute are my own creation._

* * *

"I can't believe he actually threatened you like that?"

Artimus Rand's gaze followed Cecilia as she slowly walked across her dorm room. Anger and shock battled within, each emotion trying to claim dominance. He thought back to the Halloween Dance when he smashed that chair across Jimmy's back. After hearing Cecilia describe her confrontation with Jimmy, he wished he could do it again.

"It shouldn't surprise anyone." She looked over her shoulder at him. "It's in his blood."

"Well, Jimmy's always had this chip on his shoulder about being Muggle-born."

"That's not what I meant." Cecilia bent over and opened a desk drawer. "When he was at Hogwarts he was sorted into Gryffindor, remember?"

Artimus snorted. "How can I forget when he's got that red and gold banner hanging from his wall?"

Cecilia's lips twisted as she rummaged through her drawer. "Yes, Gryffindor House. So noble and courageous. They never mention the other trait inherent to all Gryffindors. A deep-seeded hatred for Slytherins. A-ha! Still here."

"What?"

"Sorry." Cecilia shot him a quick smile. "I just wanted to make sure my copy of _Washington's Wizards_ was still here. I make sure to hide it in different places so Serinta won't nip it again."

"Did you tell her to stop taking the book?"

"Ha!" Cecilia closed the drawer and walked over to her bed, where Artimus sat. "Do you really think someone like Serinta Sejant will respect the wishes of a child of blood traitors?"

Artimus shook his head. "This is ridiculous. My father's the same. He may not use the word M . . . Mudblood." He said it in a whisper. "But he thinks Muggle-borns are nothing but interlopers in our world."

"I think there are plenty of Muggles and Muggle-borns who are just as ambitious, cunning and power hungry as any pureblood Slytherin."

Cecilia sat next to Artimus. A hot flash surged through him. His heartbeat picked up as his eyes drifted to Cecilia's skirt, which ended just below her knees. She had very nice legs.

She actually had very nice everything.

"I just . . ." Artimus chewed on his lower lip.

"What?" Cecilia canted her head.

"Well . . . I just wonder. I mean, we get along well, don't you think?"

"Of course."

Artimus intertwined his fingers, pressing them against his inner left thigh. He drew a breath before continuing. "Um, we're . . . we're friends, right?"

Now Cecilia paused, her face frozen in that unreadable mask. A dark, undulating mass of panic grew in Artimus' chest.

"Yes, Artimus," she finally said. "We are friends."

Tension gripped his muscles even more. His mouth went dry. Still he managed to speak.

"It's just . . . I think you're nice. I mean, tough and determined, too. But you're nothing like all of Jimmy's stories about Slytherins, like your cousin Draco."

Cecilia's nose twitched at the name.

Artimus continued. "Don't any of the Gryffindors make an attempt to get to know you, or any of the Slytherins?"

Cecilia choked off a laugh. "They wouldn't know how. At Hogwarts, the same families usually wind up in the same houses. You have generation after generation of Gryffindors growing up being taught to hate Slytherins. Their minds are poisoned before they even arrive at Hogwarts. Then they indoctrinate the Muggle-borns into hating Slytherin. And the same goes on in Slytherin, except my House is more fanatical about blood status than Gryffindor. When you're fed that sort of hatred day in and day out, it's hard to move past one's pre-conceived notions of a Gryffindor or a Slytherin and see them as an actual person. One who might not be so bad regardless of their House."

Artimus shook his head. "It makes me glad we don't do that sorting stuff here at Salem."

"I envy you. Outside of your sports, you only see these dorms as the places you live, not as some separate fiefdom. You don't look at someone from, say, Jingosocke Hall, and assume they're smart, or they're a happy, toiling fool or an egotistical noble idiot or the epitome of evil. You're all simply Salem students. I can't say that about my school."

"I wish you could." Artimus slid closer to Cecilia on the edge of the bed. "I . . . I wish Jimmy and Rosa and Jared and all those people at Hogwarts could see you for what you really are."

Cecilia cocked a thin eyebrow. "And what do you think I really am?"

"A . . . a nice girl."

"'Nice' isn't a word most people associate with Slytherin House."

"I don't care what other people think about you or your house," Artimus said forcefully. "I mean, you actually came looking for me and invited me to your room to talk after I got that damn Howler from my father. I didn't see Jimmy or Jared or Rosa doing that."

"I just know what it's like to have other people hold you down. I don't want to see the same thing happen to you."

"Thanks for caring."

Cecilia leaned closer to him. "It may come as a shock to most, but some of us Slytherins are capable of caring about someone other than ourselves."

"Y-You care about me?" A tremor went through Artimus' body. His heart felt as though it would explode.

"Would I be here talking to you like this if I didn't?"

Artimus' breaths came quicker. His eyes studied every inch of Cecilia's smooth, narrow features, the way her blond hair framed her face.

Then he realized their faces couldn't be more than a few inches apart.

"So," Cecilia said without taking her eyes off him. "Are you going to spend all night just staring at me, or are you actually going to kiss me?"

Artimus stopped breathing. His brain processed Cecilia's words again, wanting to confirm she had actually said them.

_She did. Merlin's beard, she actually did._

He leaned forward and gently pressed his lips to Cecilia's. She slid her hand through his hair.

Their mouths opened. Their kissing grew fiercer. Artimus lost himself in the euphoria of Cecilia's pert breasts pressed against his chest, and her tongue darting around his mouth.

He moved his lips down her neck. Cecilia moaned and let Artimus slowly lower her onto her back. She hooked her leg around his.

"Artimus," she uttered breathlessly.

He gently kissed her chin, then her lips, then her nose. "Cecilia. I just wanted to tell you . . . you are so beautiful."

She grinned wide. "Even for a snake girl."

"I think snake girl is appropriate, considering the things you can do with your tongue."

The grin faded from Cecilia's lips. Artimus froze. The panic returned and seeped into every bone in his body. He only meant it as a joke. Did he go too far?

Cecilia dug her fingers into Artimus' sides. He yelped and rolled on his side.

"Oh this isn't good." She smiled again. "Now I've discovered your weakness. You're ticklish."

Artimus howled with laughter as Cecilia continued to tickle his sides. He finally managed to slide his right hand up Cecilia's buttock and tickled her side. She let out a surprised squeal.

They rolled around the bed, tickling one another viciously. A couple times Artimus thought he gained the upper hand, but Cecilia came back at him with renewed determination.

He got her on her back again and moved his fingers up and down Cecilia's sides. Even as she giggled loudly she worked her fingers along his sides and across his stomach. Artimus rolled off her . . .

And fell off the bed and onto the floor.

Cecilia looked over the edge, laughing hysterically. "Are you all right, down there?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," Artimus groaned. "Except I feel kinda stupid."

"Well since you fell off the bed, I think that means I can declare victory."

"When did I say I was surrendering?"

Cecilia waggled her eyebrows. "Then why don't you come up here and prove to me -"

The door banged open.

Cecilia spun around. Artimus looked under the bed and saw a pair of shoes walking rapidly across the room.

"Take what you can. We're leaving."

Artimus' lungs seized. The voice belonged to Serinta Sejant.

"What the bloody hell are you talking about?" Cecilia demanded.

"They know. O'Bannon and his two idiot friends." Serinta bent down and opened her trunk. Artimus lay flat on his stomach as he watched her.

"And the Ponce woman," Serinta continued. "Except that's not really her name. She's British. Probably one of Dumbledore's lackies."

"How do you know all this?"

"Because I left dinner to go after you when you chased after that Rand boy." Serinta got to her feet and moved to the dresser, opening drawers. "That's when I heard O'Bannon and Ponce or whoever she is arguing. I followed the lot of them back to her office. They know. They know everything. Where's your damn book!"

"Why are you so int-"

"Just shut up and get moving!"

Artimus' blood went cold as Serinta moved around Cecilia's bed.

"We have to move fast before . . ."

Serinta stopped in her tracks. Artimus swallowed as the girl locked eyes with him.

"Well, look who we have here." Serinta's gaze shifted to Cecilia. "You weren't thinking of shagging him, were you? I would have thought even you had better taste than that."

Artimus shivered as Serinta turned back to him with an evil grin.

"So. What should we do with you?"

The shaking in Artimus' arms and legs grew more violent. Jimmy was right. The Slytherins were up to something.

At least Serinta was. But Cecilia . . .

_Is . . . is she going to kill me?_

Serinta reached into her robes.

Artimus pushed himself to his knees. He stuck a hand inside his robes, fumbling for his wand.

The room vanished in a brilliant flash. Darkness followed.

* * *

_TO BE CONTINUED_


	17. Chapter 17

O'Bannon didn't even try to settle his rapidly beating heart as he marched into Krallenhurst Hall with Tonks, Rosa and Jared.

Two months. For two months this had been going on. The arguments, the fights, friends turning on friends. Now they knew the reason. Now they knew who was responsible.

Now they would finally be stopped.

"Keep your guard up," warned Tonks, who changed back into her Katerina Ponce guise. "Witches like this could be capable of anything."

O'Bannon nodded, even though he didn't need the advice. Tonks' mother aside, he'd never let his guard down around a couple of Slytherins.

They jogged up the stairs, Tonks in the lead. O'Bannon's face tightened in a mask of determination as they continued down the corridor. He couldn't wait to see the looks on Serinta's and Cecilia's faces when they burst into their room.

_And finally Artimus'll see the truth._

The foursome reached the Slytherins' room. Tonks banged on the door.

"Miss Malfoy! Miss Sejant! It's Katerina Ponce! I need to see you both now!"

They waited, wands at the ready.

The door stayed closed.

Tonks pounded on it again. Still no reply.

"Maybe they're going out the window," Jared said.

"They're not getting away that easily." Tonks broke through the door's security charms without much effort and pushed it open.

The room was empty.

"Dammit!" O'Bannon slapped the sides of his legs in frustration. "Where the hell did they -"

"Artimus!" Rosa bolted past him and around one of the beds.

Paralysis gripped O'Bannon. His eyes locked on the still form of Artimus lying on the floor. Fear surged through him like water from a burst dam. The image of Cedric Diggory's lifeless body tortured his mind's eye.

_No. Please God, no._

"He's alive," Rosa said in relief.

O'Bannon sighed, the tension in his muscles unraveling. He hurried over to Artimus' side, Jared and Tonks following.

"Art? Art!" Rosa rubbed his head as he stirred. "Are you all right? What happened?"

Artimus slowly sat up, moaning. He massaged his forehead . . . and froze, his gaze aimed at O'Bannon.

"You . . . you okay, man?"

Artimus took a couple deep breaths and turned to Rosa. "She stunned me."

"Who?" Tonks asked.

"Serinta Sejant." A confused look fell over Artimus' face. "Miss Ponce? What are you doing here?"

"The name's Tonks, actually."

Artimus slid back an inch on his bottom.

"Don't worry, man. She's on our side. My friends in Britain sent her here to help."

Artimus stared at O'Bannon, doubt swirling in his eyes.

"Artimus. What exactly happened here?"

He turned to Tonks as Rosa helped him sit up. "Me and Cecilia, we were . . ."

O'Bannon cringed. No matter what Tonks said about her mother, he still didn't want to picture one of his friends macking with a Slytherin.

Artimus went on. "Serinta came into the room, yelling that they had to leave. She said she overheard you guys talking and that you knew everything."

"Well now we know who our little spy was." Rosa gently rubbed Artimus' back.

"Then what happened?" Tonks slid closer to him.

"Serinta saw me and hit me with a Stunning Spell. I-I tried to go for my wand, but she was too quick." Artimus looked up at the bed. "Where are they? Where's Cecilia? Is she all right?"

"Who the hell cares about that?" O'Bannon replied. "Art, all the arguments and the fights and everything, they're the ones behind it. Cecilia's aunt created a potion that magnifies jealousy and resentment in people till they can hardly control it."

"No, no." Artimus shook his head, wincing. "It can't be Cecilia. We . . . she cares about me."

"She's using you."

Anger lines dug into Artimus' face as he glared at O'Bannon.

"We don't have time for this." A stony look formed on Tonks' face. "Did Serinta or Cecilia say anything else? Where they were going, whether they were taking anything?"

Artimus continued to fix an angry gaze at O'Bannon.

"Artimus! Did they say anything else?"

He finally turned to Tonks. "No. I don't . . . wait. Serinta was going on about this book we were using for our History of Magic project. _Washington's Wizards. _Cecilia kept complaining that she was always taking it without asking."

"Where's the book?" Tonks got to her feet.

Artimus pointed to one of the desks. "Middle drawer."

Tonks strode over to the desk and opened the drawer. She rummaged through it for a few seconds.

"Got it!" She pulled out the copy of _Washington's Wizards_ and set it on the desk. She flipped it open and ran her wand over the pages.

"What are you looking for?" asked Rosa.

"I don't know . . . yet."

Tonks quickly flipped through the pages, until the tip of her wand flickered purple.

"Well, well. Look what we have here."

O'Bannon and Jared got up and walked over to Tonks. Rosa helped Artimus to his feet and joined them.

The book displayed a moving colored sketch of two wizards at the table of some 18th Century tavern, their heads close together as they whispered conspiratorially. Tonks slowly moved her wand around the sketch until it glowed yellow.

"Is that what I think it is?" Rosa leaned closer.

"Yes," Tonks nodded. "It's a _Tractus Tergum _Charm. Clever way to hide things. Stick them in a painting or a sketch. Most people wouldn't think to look there."

Tonks rolled up her sleeve and pressed her hand against the book. The sketch of the two wizards undulated. Tonks' hand went _through_ the picture. Seconds later she withdrew it, along with what looked like a small, dark jewelry box. She set it down on the desk, used her wand to bypass the security charms and opened it.

"Let's see. Heckathrog Root . . . Hippogriff feathers . . . Orwilco Extract . . . and asp scales. All the ingredients you'd need to make a Projection Potion."

"They must have been in a hell of a hurry if they left that behind." Rosa nodded at the box.

O'Bannon snorted. "I guess Cecilia's trying to get back in the good graces of her family. Get everyone at Salem fighting one another and she can get a piece of the Malfoy family fortune."

"No!" Artimus swung his reddened face to O'Bannon. "She's not involved in this. It's gotta be Serinta. She's the one who was always stealing that book. And now we know why."

O'Bannon frowned and shook his head. Man, this chick had him snowed.

"We have to find them," Tonks stated before O'Bannon could say anything. "Hopefully they didn't get far."

They started for the door.

"Wait one." O'Bannon halted when he saw something on the floor around an open trunk with SERINTA SEJANT inscribed in fancy lettering. He bent down, staring at the small, uneven track of glittering powder. He took a pinch between his thumb and forefinger.

"Floo Powder."

Jared threw up his hands in frustration. "Oh great. They could be anywhere in the country now."

"They wouldn't dare Floo from here." Tonks stared at the powder on the floor. "Not with all the controls the school has on its Floo portals. It'd be too easy to trace them. They'd have to do it somewhere else."

"Ovenderburg," Artimus muttered, referring to the wizarding village near Salem.

"Yeah." O'Bannon stood. "They got a nice little red light district in that town."

Tonks canted her head, a confused look on her face.

"Sorry. Think Knockturn Alley back in London."

"I see what you mean. In a place like that there's probably plenty of unregistered Floo portals she could use."

"But how can they get there?" Artimus' eyes darted among the group. "Students can't open the front gate. And if they try to go over the wall that'll set off the security sensors."

"There is one way." Rosa pointed to the floor.

O'Bannon furrowed his brow. What the hell was she . . .

Realization flared in his eyes. "The tunnels."

"Can we use them to get to Ovenderburg?" Tonks asked.

"Heck yeah," Jared replied. "Before we turned sixteen me and Rosa used them to sneak in there all the time."

"Lead the way, then."

The five dashed back downstairs. Jared and Rosa led them down to the Krallenhurst basement and up to a large, dust covered portrait of a plump middle-aged witch standing over a bubbling cauldron.

"How did this one work again?" Jared looked to Rosa.

She snorted and brushed past him. She held her wand to the top right corner, tapped it twice and ran it down the side. Rosa repeated the process on the left side.

The painting slid across the wall, revealing a large hole in the wall.

"Off to join your friends?" asked the witch in the portrait.

All five whipped their heads toward the painting.

"Did someone else come through here?"

"There's no need to get snippy." The witch frowned at Tonks.

"Sorry, but it's important."

"That's still no excuse for rude be-"

"Just answer the friggin' question!" O'Bannon hollered. He wasn't in the mood for games, not when they were this close to catching those Slytherin bitches.

The witch lifted her chin, looking down her nose at them. "When you decide to speak in a civilized manner, then I will _consider_ answering you."

"We don't have the bloody time for this. Come on." Tonks waved them into the tunnel. "They could already be in Ovenderburg for all we know."

Wands lit, Jared and Rosa took the lead, with Tonks and Artimus behind them and O'Bannon bringing up the rear. They hurried best they could through the tunnel, their progress hampered as they stumbled from time to time on exposed roots or jutting rocks. At one point Tonks' foot caught on a root. She pitched face first onto the dirt floor.

"You okay?" O'Bannon helped her up.

"I'm fine." Tonks rubbed her forehead. When she lowered her hand, the glow from everyone's wands showed traces of blood on the auror's fingers.

O'Bannon lifted his wand. Blood trickled from a dirty gash above Tonks' right eye.

"Whoa, you got a nasty cut there."

"It's nothing. I'll live." She looked to the others. "Keep moving."

Tonks darted forward, followed by Jared, Rosa and Artimus. O'Bannon started to move when he caught movement out the corner of his eye. Something dark and low to the ground. He swung around and aimed his wand to the floor. Did something move to his right, or was that just a shadow?

"Jimmy!" Tonks called urgently. "Come on!"

He did one last scan with his eyes. Seeing nothing, he joined the others.

"_Always watch your back." _The words of the fake Mad-Eye Moody bellowed at him from the past.

Every minute or so O'Bannon checked over his shoulder. Once he thought he saw something skittering on the floor. Before he could take a closer look Rosa yelped. O'Bannon whirled around and saw her pointing her lighted wand first at her shoe, then the ground, illuminating a small flattened patch of dark goo.

"Dammit!" She sneered. "Gnome poop. I stepped in friggin' gnome poop."

"Hey," Jared shrugged. "They do use these tunnels to move between the school and Ovenderburg. And when you gotta go . . ."

"Just clean your shoe later," Tonks hissed. "We have to move."

Snorting, Rosa fell in behind Tonks.

O'Bannon took a last look behind him and clicked his tongue. Gnomes. That's what those skittering shadows had to be.

_I got more important things to worry about._

He continued down the tunnel.

Many minutes later, Jared pointed to the roof with his wand. "This is it."

He whirled his wand around three times and muttered an incantation. The scraping of bricks echoed through the tunnel. O'Bannon watched part of the solid roof slide apart.

Jared gripped a couple rocks jutting from the wall and climbed through the opening. Rosa followed, then Tonks, then Artimus, and finally O'Bannon. He emerged in a narrow alley. A dumpster overflowing with trash sat immediately to his left. O'Bannon crinkled his nose at the stale, noxious odor.

As he stood, he heard that same grinding sound again. He looked down to see the bricks slide together and seal the opening.

"Which way now?" Tonks looked to Jared and Rosa.

"This way." Jared pointed to his left and began walking.

"Then what?" asked Rosa. "There's plenty of places to hide in Ovenderburg's seedy section."

Tonks smirked. "In a place like that there's bound to be people about. Prostitutes, dark magic peddlers. We'll ask one of them if they've seen Serinta and Cecilia."

Rosa turned to the auror. "I doubt people like that will be very cooperative."

"Don't worry. I can be very persuasive."

O'Bannon raised his eyebrows. From the tone in Tonks' voice, her methods of persuasion probably covered the entire spectrum from friendly to . . . not-so-friendly.

O'Bannon knew quickly when they crossed the imaginary line from the nice part of Ovenderburg to the bad part. All the streets seemed much darker than the rest of the village, even at night. Goose pimples crept up his back.

_It's not like you're helpless. There's five of you, including an auror, and you all have wands._

It still didn't make him feel safe in this part of Ovenderburg.

He tried to push his fear aside and focus instead on catching the Slytherins . . . if they were still around. O'Bannon didn't want to think of them escaping to who knows where. After seeing what the Projection Potion could do, he shivered when he thought of its effects spreading through a village like Ovenderburg. Or a city like Boston.

They came across a couple of prostitutes standing outside a dingy tavern. O'Bannon's face contorted as he sized up both witches. One was too skinny, the other looked like the offspring of a troll and a brontosaurus.

_And guys pay to have sex with that?_

Tonks gave the two a description of the Slytherins. Neither claimed to have seen them. Tonks dropped some silver pieces into their hands.

"Thanks for the free money," said the fat ugly one. "But we really haven't seen them."

O'Bannon scowled as they moved on.

Tonks asked a few other shady witches and wizards about Serinta and Cecilia. None of them had seen the girls. Two of the wizards hit on Tonks, who told them she'd rather sleep with a ghoul. One dumbass actually tried to pick a fight with her. A Body-Bind curse put a quick end to that.

Finally a scruffy, pot-bellied wizard who reeked of the burning odor of fire whiskey told them, after Tonks shelled out four silver pieces, that he saw two "sexy young blonds" headed up the block. The five hurried down the street until the came to an intersection.

"Which way did they go?" Artimus spun around, panic flooding his voice.

O'Bannon eyed him suspiciously. Did he still care about Cecilia in spite of everything they now knew? He shook his head and looked down the street to his left. A group of witches and wizards congregated on the stoop of a ratty-looking inn. Across from them a wizard in ratty robes who looked like he hadn't shaved or bathed in years stumbled along the sidewalk.

"Maybe we should split up," Rosa suggested.

The corners of Tonks' mouth twisted. "I'm not comfortable letting you kids run around a place like this by yourselves."

O'Bannon furrowed his brow at the "kids" reference. Tonks wasn't that much older than them.

"We can take care of ourselves." Jared glanced at Rosa. "For cryin' out loud we were sneaking around troll caves and dragon nests before we even started at Salem."

Tonks sighed. "I don't know."

Jared and Rosa continued to argue their case.

"Hey, how's about a good time?"

O'Bannon turned when he heard the slurred speech of the ratty wizard. The man stood in front of an alley entrance.

"C'mon. You're a couple of cuties. Come play with my _other _wand. Heh-heh!"

O'Bannon shook his head. He figured the guy was trying to pick up some hookers.

_Good luck with that, pal._ The wizard probably didn't have so much as a jade piece to his name.

"We're all Seventh Years." Rosa put her hands on her hips. "We can handle ourselves."

"You think so?" Tonks folded her arms.

"Come on, little cuties." The horny wizard distracted O'Bannon again. "Why won't you be friendly?"

"Look." Rosa stepped toward Tonks. "If we get into serious trouble, I'll signal you with a Patronus. Promise."

"I still don't -"

"C'mon, babies!" The old wizard pleaded loud enough for Tonks and Rosa to turn their attention toward him. "I haven't had any for so long, and you're so -"

A red bolt shot from the alley and struck the wizard in the chest. He soared through the air and landed in the middle of the street, unmoving.

"Dammit! Come on! Move!"

O'Bannon tensed when he heard the voice . . . a voice with a British accent.

A second later Serinta Sejant emerged from the alley, pushing Cecilia Malfoy ahead of her.

"You're barking mad!" Cecilia shouted over her shoulder at Serinta.

"Shut up and keep moving!" Serinta's wand dug into Cecilia's back.

O'Bannon cranked an eyebrow. _What's that all -_

"Cecilia!" Artimus' sudden cry made O'Bannon jump. His friend hurried toward the girls.

"Artimus! No!" Tonks grabbed him by the back of his robes as he shot past her.

"Let me go!"

"Artimus!" Cecilia cried out. "Help!"

O'Bannon started toward the girls, Rosa and Jared behind him.

"Stay back!" Serinta aimed her wand first at them, then back at Cecilia.

"Drop your wands right now!" Serinta pressed her wand against Cecilia's head.

"We can't do that." Tonks shook her head. "Not with you girls possessing knowledge of the Projection Potion."

"It was all her doing!" Cecilia's voice quivered as she spoke. "She coated the water glass on my nightstand with it. I was drinking it every night without knowing it."

O'Bannon bit his lower lip. Was she telling the truth, or doing what all – most? – Slytherins do in situations like this? Saying anything to save their own asses.

"You're still a Malfoy," Serinta hissed. "No matter how much you and your blood traitor parents have disgraced that name. You'll serve the Dark Lord one way or another."

"Let her go, you crazy bitch!" Artimus shouted. He tried to take a step forward. Tonks still held his robes tight.

"All of you get the hell out of here before I blow her bloody head off!" Serinta pressed her wand harder against Cecilia's temple. The girl closed her eyes, looking like she would cry any second.

"What? Are you going to kill your own weapon?" Tonks said.

"I can always find another dupe to take the potion."

"That'll be hard when we've got all of your ingredients," Jared mocked her.

"You think I can't get more someplace else? Now all of you! Drop your wands or this traitorous little bitch dies!"

"No, please!" Artimus' voice cracked.

"We're not doing it, Serinta!" Tonks aimed a steely gaze at the crazed Slytherin.

"Tonks, for Merlin's sake, you can't let her die!"

Even in the darkness, O'Bannon noticed tear streaks running down Artimus' cheeks.

He also noticed something else. A dark little silhouette scurrying across the street. O'Bannon screwed up his eyes and peered closer.

_Oh no way._

He watched the familiar shape stalk toward the Slytherins. If it was going to do what he thought it would do, no way could he let Serinta see it.

"Hey, Slytherin bitch!"

O'Bannon saw Serinta's teeth gleam in the dark as she glowered at him.

"Jimmy, what the hell are you doing?"

He ignored Tonks. "Is that what Salem was to you? A test run for something bigger? Get all of us jealous to the point we start beating on one another? If it works here you take it to a bigger stage? Pawtucket, maybe? Providence? Boston? Hell, why not New York or Washington? Go for the big-time."

"I'm impressed, O'Bannon. You actually do have a couple of functioning brain cells."

Without turning his head, O'Bannon glanced across the street. The little silhouette was about ten feet from the Slytherins.

_Keep her talking._

"Well . . . let me continue. I guess if you take that Projection Potion coast to coast, we'll all be too busy fighting one another in this country to stop You-Know-Who and his goons when they try to take over."

"The Dark Lord could take over this pathetic country even without that potion. But like you said, why not make things easy?"

He glanced at the shadowy figure. Almost there.

"Yeah, typical Slytherins. Always take the easy way out. Be it hooking up with some slimeball dark wizard or . . ."

"HOW DARE YOU INSULT HIM!?!" Serinta exploded. She whipped her wand away from Serinta's head and pointed it at O'Bannon. "YOU MUDBLOOD SCUM!! WHEN THE DARK LORD CONQUERS THIS COUNTRY, YOU'LL BE ON YOUR KNEES BEGGING FOR YOUR MIS-"

Cecilia rammed her elbow into Serinta's gut. The girl gasped for air. Cecilia broke free and ran toward them. Serinta looked up at the fleeing girl and started to bring up her wand.

A gurgling squeal caught everyone's attention. O'Bannon smiled as he watched Feetish dash toward Serinta and leap onto her shoe. The girl screamed and kicked furiously. Feetish hung on tenaciously, crying out in perverted delight.

"Get it off! Get it off!" Serinta lost her balance and fell on her ass. Feetish squealed loudly and tugged at her right shoe.

"Thank you, Feetish." O'Bannon figured the sicko garden gnome had been responsible for the shadows he saw in the tunnel. Had he been trailing them the whole way and at the last minute targeted Serinta for some reason? Or could he have been stalking the Slytherin since she and Cecilia came through the tunnel?

He didn't know and he didn't care. Thanks to the little perv, they had Serinta.

O'Bannon started toward her when a blur of movement made him turn. He saw Cecilia leap onto Artimus. His friend wrapped his arms around her in a crushing hug. Cecilia buried her face in his shoulder.

"It's okay." Artimus stroked the girl's hair. "You're okay. Thank Merlin you're okay."

O'Bannon just stood there watching them with wide eyes. He could almost feel the intensity of their hug.

Artimus looked his way. O'Bannon tried to read the expression on his face. Something between anger and pleading for understanding.

Artimus turned back to Cecilia and kissed her on the head. The Slytherin girl responded by hugging him tighter.

"Get off me, damn you!" Serinta kicked furiously at Feetish.

With a final tug, the garden gnome yanked off her shoe. He held it over his head, jumping up and down and gurgling in triumph.

Serinta brought up her wand.

Tonks dashed forward.

"_Redacto!"_ the Slytherin shouted.

"_Expelliarmus!" _Tonks shouted.

A second too late.

Like a potato in a microwave, Feetish exploded. Guts and blood shot through the air and splattered on the street.

O'Bannon's lungs seized as Serinta's wand spiraled out of her hand. Rosa gasped behind him.

_Oh Jesus. Oh Jesus._ He gaped at the puddle of gore that used to be Feetish.

"Don't move!"

Tonks' voice snapped O'Bannon out of his daze. The auror stood a few feet away from Serinta, wand aimed at her. The Slytherin fixed Tonks with a death stare.

O'Bannon made his way over to them, careful not to step on any of Feetish's remains.

_I can't believe she blew him up._

"So what are you going to do with me?" Serinta glowered at Tonks. "Take me back to Britain? Hand me over to the Ministry? You think they'll send me to Azkaban? The only way for that to happen is for the Minister to admit the Dark Lord is back. And that old fool loves his office too much to do that."

"The people I'm with don't need the Ministry. When I get you back to England, you can expect there'll be a nice goblet of Truth Potion waiting for you."

"I'll never betray my master!" Serinta hissed.

Someone rushed past O'Bannon. He whipped his head left just as Cecilia reared back her foot and kicked Serinta in the gut. The girl wheezed and fell on her side.

"You and your 'master' can go to hell!" Cecilia spat on her. "How dare you put that vile potion in me?"

Serinta took a raspy breath to refill her lungs. "You're a traitor to our House and all it stands for."

Cecilia bent over, her narrowed eyes aimed at Serinta. "Our House prides itself on ruthlessness and cunning. There was never anything about murder or consorting with You-Know-Who."

O'Bannon held his breath, gazing at Cecilia Malfoy. He never would have believed such words would come from the mouth of a Slytherin. My God, the girl actually sounded like she had . . .

A conscience.

"You'll pay." Serinta breathed so harshly spittle flew from her lips. "Blood traitors and Mudbloods, you'll all pay!"

"From where I'm standing, looks like you'll be doing all the paying, you friggin' psycho hag." Jared smirked at her.

"Get her up." Tonks nodded to Serinta. "Let's get her back to Salem. Then we can -"

A sharp crack cut off Tonks. Then came another, another, and another.

O'Bannon's head snapped up. Four shadowy figures suddenly appeared in the middle of the street, each one in black robes and hoods.

His heart beat out of control. His legs trembled uncontrollably. He'd seen pictures of these people many times in books.

But never in his life had Jimmy O'Bannon come face-to-face with Death Eaters.

Feminine laughter echoed in the night. Evil laughter. Somehow he took his eyes off the recently Disapparated Death Eaters and looked at Serinta. She chortled madly.

The Slytherin girl regarded them with a predatory smile. "As I said. _You'll . . . all . . . pay."_

* * *

_TO BE CONTINUED_


	18. Chapter 18

O'Bannon swallowed a breath as multi-colored spells shot toward him. He stood frozen as reds and blues and yellows overwhelmed his pupils.

The sizzling bolts exploded in mid-air mere feet from him. O'Bannon cringed as the dazzling fireworks display blotted out the street around him.

"Take cover!" Tonks gritted her teeth as she maintained her Shield Spell to block a second barrage from the Death Eaters.

Her shout broke through the shock and fear that encased O'Bannon. He blinked, the primal instincts of survival rushing to the surface. Wand up, he dashed toward the sidewalk. The witches and wizards who'd been hanging out on the stoop either rushed inside the dilapidated apartment or hid behind the small brick stairway.

O'Bannon dove behind a lamp post, laid on his stomach, and cast Stunning Spells at the Death Eaters. The shadowy figures easily deflected them.

From the corner of his eye he spotted Tonks and the others firing from the alley across the street. Dozens of bolts cut through the darkness. Several exploded against the wall near Tonks and his friends. They turned away to avoid the spray of debris.

O'Bannon got to one knee and cast Stunning Spells and Body-Bind Curses. Either Death Eaters blocked them, or he simply missed them completely.

"Dammit!" O'Bannon snarled as another spell got deflected by a Death Eater. Anger mounted inside him. Defense Against the Dark Arts had always been one of his best classes. Hell, he received Exceeds Expectations for the past three years.

Unfortunately, his good grades didn't mean jack here.

_And my teachers were never trying to kill me._

A whip-like beam of light flashed O'Bannon's way. He ducked. The air around him crackled with electricity. All the hair on the back of his neck stood. Something creaked above him. He looked up.

The lamp post had been severed . . . and fell toward him.

He rolled across the sidewalk. The lamp post crashed to the ground where he'd been kneeling.

O'Bannon scrambled to a stoop. He crouched behind it and fired at the Death Eaters. One was already on the ground. O'Bannon had no idea who hit him.

He cast another stunner. His intended target blocked it . . . barely. O'Bannon was about to fire another when he glimpsed something out the corner of his eye.

The severed lamp post rose off the ground and turned, its tip pointing at him. He started to swing his wand arm around.

The lamp post hurtled toward him.

"_Repulsus!"_

The lamp post suddenly spun away, headed toward the Death Eaters. From across the street he saw Rosa guide the object with her wand.

_Thank you, Rosa._

One of the Death Eaters blew the lamp post to bits. But the distraction was enough for Tonks to cast a spell that turned the street into waves of dirt. The Death Eaters flailed and fell to the ground.

Tonks and the others poured out of the alley. Jared nailed one Death Eater with a Stunning Spell before he could pick himself up.

"Yeah! I got him!" He pumped a fist in the air. "I got the son-of-a . . ."

Two other Death Eaters fired from their knees. Tonks and Rosa blocked their bolts with Shield Spells just in time.

O'Bannon got up and aimed his wand at the two Death Eaters.

That's when he noticed the remaining Death Eater running down the street . . . followed by Serinta Sejant.

His eyes flickered back and forth. They couldn't let Serinta escape and spread the Projection Potion.

But he couldn't run out on his friends.

_What if she gets away?_

_What if I try to stop her and Rosa or Jared or Artimus or Tonks are killed because I wasn't around?_

_What if Serinta spreads this thing across the nation?_

_What about my friends?_

_Stop debating and do something._

He closed his eyes. Tonks and his three best friends . . . or the entire country?

_Please, God. Don't make me regret my choice._

Sucking down a deep breath, he charged after Serinta and the Death Eater.

"_Stupify!"_

O'Bannon's stunner shot two feet over the running Death Eater's head. The hooded figure turned and fired. O'Bannon conjured a Shield Spell just in time.

He cast two more Stunning Spells. The Death Eater blocked them both. As they approached the corner Serinta and the Death Eater veered toward a run down two-story apartment building. O'Bannon quickly glanced at the roof and noticed the chimney.

_Floo portal._

They were ten feet from the steps.

The Death Eater fired another curse at O'Bannon. He blocked it with a Shield Spell. The Death Eater cast another curse without aiming. This time O'Bannon simply ducked as it streaked overhead.

Now Serinta and the Death Eater were a few feet from the entrance.

Only one thing he could think to do.

"_Freezium!"_

A white beam surged from his wand. The spell he usually used to freeze ponds so he could skate on them now spread ice across the street, the sidewalks . . . and the stairs leading to the apartment.

The Death Eater's foot came down on the second step. He slipped and crashed down on his back. His head snapped up and down, cracking on the ice-covered ground. Serinta yelped as she also fell.

O'Bannon aimed his wand at his sneakers. _"Nullus Lapsus!"_

The charm allowed him to run across the ice without slipping. He eyed the Death Eater, who barely moved. He then looked to Serinta. The Slytherin grimaced as she got to her feet and spotted him.

"_Stupify!" _

Serinta blocked the spell. _"Rictusempra!"_

The silver bolt barely missed O'Bannon.

"_Expelliarmus!"_

Another Shield Spell by Serinta thwarted O'Bannon's attack. She then pointed her wand at the ground. _"Constrictus!"_

Vine-like tentacles burst through the icy ground. O'Bannon gasped as they wrapped around his legs and arms and lifted him off his feet.

Serinta carefully got to her feet, grinning evilly.

"One less Mudblood in the world." She whipped her wand around.

The tentacles pulled on O'Bannon's arms and legs. He cried out as fiery pain tore through his muscles.

_Oh my God. Oh my God, no!_ The crazy bitch was going to rip him apart!

Terror sent his heart into overdrive. He tried to pull against the tentacles. Sharp blades of pain pierced deep into his bones. He howled again.

Serinta cackled. "This should earn me my mark. There's nothing better than removing the impure from our world. Especially when it's a Mudblood who embarrassed one of the most noble wizarding families in Britain!"

The pain turned into razor-sharp claws that slashed his joints. Tears streamed down O'Bannon's eyes. He was going to die. He was going to die with that damn Slytherin bitch taunting him until he took his final breath.

A spark cut through his pain. That spark quickly grew into a white hot flame of anger. Could he really die screaming in agony for this psycho's enjoyment?

_I don't want to die period!_

The tentacle around his right arm prevented him from aiming his wand at Serinta. So he did the only thing he could.

He rotated his wrist and pointed it at the ground.

"_Reducto!"_

A monstrous roar consumed the world. O'Bannon felt himself twist through the air. His brain registered a sharp pain in his right leg before a sudden jolt stopped his momentum. A dull buzz filled his head. He blinked. Slowly the world came back into focus. O'Bannon wheezed as he sucked in much need oxygen. Groaning, he pushed himself to a sitting position. His right leg throbbed. He looked down and gasped.

A shard of ice protruded from his calf.

He reached down and pulled it out. He bellowed as pain sliced through every inch of his leg.

Several pieces of limp, severed tentacles were still wrapped around his arms and legs. O'Bannon tore them away, breathing deeply and rapidly in a futile effort to fight off the pain.

It wasn't only his leg that hurt, but his right shoulder, and his head.

And that damn buzz wouldn't leave his ears.

He looked around. No sign of the Death Eater. He did find Serinta lying fifteen feet away, her head lolling from side-to-side.

O'Bannon tried to summon up the strength to move toward her. His brain rebelled. He just wanted to lay here, for a long, long time.

_Move your worthless ass, O'Bannon. Don't let her get away._

He checked on the listless Serinta again.

_She's not going anywhere._

_Do you want to take that chance? Now cowboy up and make sure she stays put!_

Grimacing, O'Bannon got to his feet. Every time he put down his right foot, pain crushed his leg, which was also sticky with blood. Still he hobbled over to the Slytherin girl. Her wand lay a couple feet from her. O'Bannon kicked it away with his good foot.

Serinta's eyes flickered open.

O'Bannon aimed his wand at her.

"You are so lucky you're a girl. Otherwise I'd knock your damn teeth out."

His own voice sounded muffled. Had she heard him? O'Bannon shook his head. The buzz remained in his ear.

Serinta's mouth moved. O'Bannon only made out a couple words, "Mudblood" being one of them.

Someone shoved him from behind. O'Bannon whirled around, wand up.

"Jimmy." Rosa held up her hands. "It's us." It looked like she was yelling, but to O'Bannon's buzzing ears it came through as a garbled whisper.

His eyes flickered away from Rosa. Tonks, Jared, Artimus and Cecilia all stood around him.

"You all right, man?" asked Jared. "That was insane what you did."

O'Bannon just nodded and turned back to Serinta. She still lay on the ground.

"Get up." Tonks gestured with her wand.

Serinta slowly rose, glaring at all of them.

"Do you think she'll help convince people You-Know-Who is really back?" Rosa turned to Tonks. "I mean, if she was helping out the Malfoys . . ."

"We'll find out everything she knows once I get her back to Britain." Tonks kept her eyes on Serinta.

O'Bannon gazed past his friends and scanned the street beyond. "What happened to the other Death Eaters?"

"We started kicking their asses and they apparated the hell outta here," Jared explained. "And you shoulda saw Artimus here." He slapped the taller boy's shoulder. "He nailed one of those peckerheads with a sweet curse. Made his legs flail all over -"

"_Avada Kedavra!"_

The universe stopped. Horror engulfed O'Bannon. A green light sped toward him.

The faces of so many people passed through his mind. Mom and Dad. Rosa. Jared. Artimus. Rana. Mireet. The Weasleys. How could his life end now? He wasn't even eighteen.

The Killing Curse shot past him. A green flash illuminated Serinta Sejant. She soared backwards and slammed onto the street hard.

She didn't move.

"No!" Tonks whipped around. O'Bannon followed her gaze.

The last Death Eater vaulted over the stoop and threw himself into the apartment building.

_What the hell?_ Had he been blown back there when O'Bannon unleashed his Redactor Curse? Had he been hiding behind the stoop the whole time, waiting for . . .

_I should have . . . I wanted to get Serinta so bad I forgot . . . dammit!_

Tonks and the others rushed toward the apartment. O'Bannon limped after them as Tonks reached the door.

A flash of white blinded him. The British auror was hurled back, crashing into Rosa, Jared, Artimus and Cecilia. All of them fell in a heap.

"You guys all right?" O'Bannon called out.

Tonks looked dazed. Rosa shook her head and stared at the door. "Security charms."

She took out her wand and let loose a stream of spells. O'Bannon joined in, as did Jared and Artimus.

For three minutes they bombarded the door. The security charms did not falter.

"Forget it." Tonks got to her feet, rubbing her head. "That Death Eater probably Floo away from here already."

They all lowered their wands, scowling. O'Bannon noticed Cecilia walking away . . . toward Serinta's still form.

He followed her over, as did the others. Artimus put an arm around Cecilia as they gazed down at Serinta's body.

O'Bannon shivered as he focused on the girl's lifeless eyes. He stepped back in time and found himself looking at the corpse of Cedric Diggory from the stands of the Quidditch pitch. How could it happen? Alive one minute, then dead just like that? Murdered. How many Muggles ever saw two murder victims by the time they were his age?

_I didn't even see Cedric get killed. Serinta happened right in front of me. I don't think that Death Eater even hesitated._

He shook his head. This crazy bitch tried to kill him. Why did he even feel the slightest bit bad she bought it? He should friggin' rejoice.

Instead O'Bannon felt numb.

"Why?" Artimus asked in a hushed voice.

"To keep her from talking," Tonks simply stated.

Several seconds passed without anyone saying a word. Finally Tonks said, "We'd best alert your Headmistress."

She sent a Patronus to Salem with a message to Headmistress Esmeralda. Minutes later the old witch arrived, along with Gretchen Gillwick.

"Merlin's beard." The school nurse went pale as she stared at O'Bannon. "Mister O'Bannon, what are you even doing on your feet? I'm taking you to the infirmary. All of you. After what happened here I want to give all of you thorough examinations."

"But what about . . . Serinta?" Rosa swallowed and nodded to the dead Slytherin. "What about the Death Eaters, and this apartment?"

"We'll handle things from here, Rosa," said Headmistress Esmeralda. "All of you get back to Salem."

"Come on." Nurse Gillwick herded them away. "We'll apparate outside the school, then I'll get a stretcher for you, Mister O'Bannon."

Gillwick took hold of his right side, Rosa his left. O'Bannon took all his weight off his bloody right leg. A dizzy spell swept through his head. He suddenly felt so tired. How much blood had he lost?

He looked over his shoulder, taking one last look at Serinta Sejant. His stomach turned into a solid, ice cold ball.

O'Bannon feared this wouldn't be the last dead person he'd see before this war was over.

**NEXT: **_THE CONCLUSION_

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: **_Now that FFN has added the image manager to allow us to have "covers" for our stories, I'd like to take advantage of it. Unfortunately, I have no artistic ability whatsoever. If anyone feels inspired to create a cover for this story, or any of my other stories, please PM me about it._


	19. Chapter 19

"Jimmy. How are you feeling?"

Jimmy O'Bannon entered Tonks' tiny office, walking slower than he normally did. "Nurse Gillwick healed up my leg and shoulder nicely, but I'm still sore as hell."

"Well that's what you get for almost blowing yourself up." Tonks gave him a lopsided grin.

O'Bannon shrugged. "Hey, it was the best I could come up with on short notice."

"And what about . . . emotionally?"

"I feel a lot calmer than I have in about a month."

Soon after their return to Salem, Headmistress Esmeralda had Mister Korvette brew up the antidote for the Projection Potion, which had been included in Snape's message to Tonks. At breakfast the next morning the antidote was given to the all the students and staff. The stuff tasted like chalk mixed with cat piss, but O'Bannon decided it was a small price to pay if it put things back to normal.

He groaned slightly and took a seat in front of Tonks' desk. "So, did you find anything in that Death Eater safehouse?"

"Nothing particularly useful. And they sealed up the fireplace. We have no idea where that last Death Eater might have Flooed to."

O'Bannon frowned. "I still don't know why Serinta and Cecilia were hiding in that alley? Why not just apparate into the apartment if it was that close by?"

"Security charms. They prevented anyone from apparating inside. And there were people on the street at the time. Serinta probably wanted to wait until it was clear before moving on so she wouldn't draw attention to herself."

"Well, Slytherins do like sneaking around in the shadows." O'Bannon bit his lip momentarily. "Most Slytherins."

"Thank you." Tonks nodded to him.

O'Bannon sighed and slouched in his seat.

"Something the matter?" Tonks canted her head.

"Yeah, well . . . I just wanted to say I'm sorry."

"For what?"

O'Bannon tugged on the left sleeve of his robes and sighed. "I should have made sure that Death Eater was out of it before I checked on Serinta. I should have nailed him with a Body-Bind Curse or something. Then you guys in the Order could have pumped her for whatever information she had. Now . . ."

He looked away, not wanting to see the kind of look Tonks would give him. An accusatory one, no doubt. A look that said he was just a stupid Muggle-born kid trying to fight battles better left to real witches and wizards.

Something moved in front of him. He glanced up to find Tonks sitting on the edge of her desk.

"Don't beat yourself up, Jimmy. For someone without any formal training, you did an exceptional job in Ovenderburg. It's true we'll never learn what sort of information Serinta Sejant had on You-Know-Who and his forces, but you did stop her from spreading the effects of the Projection Potion to other parts of your country."

"Thanks." He managed a half-grin, then stared at his lap.

"Something else on your mind?"  
There was. Something that had plagued him since he returned from Hogwarts. Something made worse by the events of two nights ago.

O'Bannon raised his head, noting the concern on Tonks' face. Part of him didn't want to say anything. Call it male pride or whatever. He'd thoroughly impressed this auror by fighting Death Eaters and preventing Serinta from escaping. If he admitted this to her, would she think him weak?

_But who else can I ask this?_

"Um . . . it's just . . . well. Have you seen a lot of dead people? Being an auror and being with the Order of the Phoenix?"

Tonks' eyes widened. She drew back a little in surprise. O'Bannon wondered if she'd chastise him for asking such a question.

"I've only been an auror for little over a year, but I have seen a couple."

O'Bannon nodded, his mind drawing a blank on what to say next.

Tonks saved him the trouble. "This is about Serinta, isn't it?"

O'Bannon gnawed on the inside of his cheek. He willed himself to force out the words. "I had nightmares all summer about Cedric's murder. I've never seen a dead person up close and personal like that. Okay, well, one of my aunts died a couple years ago and I went to the viewing. But that's different. I mean, she looked peaceful in that coffin. And Cedric . . . he was just lying on the ground. A guy nearly as old as me, and there he was. Dead. And now Serinta. Part of me wants to be glad she's dead. She almost killed me, for Merlin's sake. But seeing her on the ground, her eyes staring at nothing . . ." He shivered. "How do you deal with it?"

"You just do."

"Simple as that?"

"Unfortunately, it's not simple. I still have nightmares over those two bodies I've seen since becoming an auror. You can't help but think how quickly this person's life was snuffed out. You wonder what his or her life would have been like if they hadn't died, how their loved ones will react. You get frightened to your very core wondering if it can happen to you. And most of all, you feel awful because a human life has ended violently."

"Do you even feel that way for someone like Serinta?"

Tonks nodded. "Yes. As despicable as she was, she was still a human being. And so young. Ever since that night I sometimes find myself getting mad at her. Why did she decide to serve You-Know-Who? Would she have eventually seen the light if she lived? And what about her parents? They may serve our enemy, but they are still parents. They'll still mourn the loss of their daughter. I wonder how anyone can ever get over that."

O'Bannon folded his arms and sighed. "You know, I didn't even know Cedric. I hated Serinta. And Feetish, he was just some sicko, annoying garden gnome. If I'm feeling this way after their deaths, what's gonna happen if next time it's someone I really care about?"

"I wish I could answer you, Jimmy. I can't imagine what would happen if I lost my parents. I suspect I'd mourn, then go on and do what needs to be done, because that's what my mum and dad would want."

They stared in silence at one another for several seconds. O'Bannon gripped the armrests of his chair and pushed himself up with a groan. "Thanks, Tonks. For everything."

"It was my pleasure, Jimmy."

The two shook hands.

"So what now?" O'Bannon asked.

"I go back to Britain. Continue the fight."

"Well, tell everyone back in Merry Ol' England I said hi."

"I certainly will." Tonks smiled at him.

"Oh, and if you can do me one more favor."

"What?"

"Next time you see Fred and George, tell 'em I'm gonna fix their asses for sending Jared and Rosa those Ton-Tongue Toffees to give me."

**XXXXX**

"So what's going to happen to you now?" Artimus leaned against the closed door of Cecilia's room, watching her pack her trunk.

"That auror Tonks has made arrangements with the Guild of the Light." She kept her focus on her trunk as she spoke. "I'll be going into hiding. The same with my parents back in Britain."

"Where?"

Cecilia closed her eyes. Several seconds passed before she turned to Artimus. "I don't know. Even if I did, I wouldn't be able to tell you."

Artimus' chin fell to his chest. "Will I ever see you again?"

"I . . . I don't know."

A hole opened under Artimus' heart and swallowed it. He cursed Serinta Sejant, cursed You-Know-Who, cursed this damn, stupid war that ripped Cecilia Malfoy away from him. He'd never had the kind of luck with girls that Jimmy and Jared did. Now when he finally found one he cared about, and who cared about him in return, she had to leave.

Artimus felt two fingers underneath his chin. He allowed them to lift his head until he stared into Cecilia's eyes.

"Thank you," she said softly. "For looking past my House, my last name, and treating me like a human being."

Artimus put his hands on Cecilia's sides, then slid them around her back. Merlin, how he loved holding her. "Thank you, for all your advice. For believing in me."

"You're a lot stronger than you think, Artimus. Always stand up for yourself, and don't let anyone take advantage of you."

"I won't."

"And . . . and another thing."

Cecilia took a deep breath, then gently rested her hand on Artimus' cheek. His insides quivered.

"There is going to be a war. I can feel it. In a way, it's already started. I want you to promise me that you'll do everything you can to make it through alive."

"I promise."

The corners of Artimus' mouth twitched. Moisture formed in his eyes. If this was going to be the last time he ever saw Cecilia Malfoy . . .

"Cecilia. I . . . I think I . . . I think I'm . . ."

She surged forward and kissed him hard. Artimus pulled her into him, running his hand through her blond hair.

"Please don't say it," Cecilia said. "It'll . . . It's just going to make it harder."

To Artimus' surprise, a tear rolled down Cecilia's cheek. He never pictured her the crying type.

They kissed again.

Someone knocked on the door.

Artimus wanted to yank out his wand and cast every spell he knew to barricade the door, to prevent anyone from taking away Cecilia.

Hesitantly, Cecilia took hold of the knob and opened the door.

Tonks stood in the door frame, along with, to Artimus' surprise, Jimmy.

"It's time to go, Cecilia."

She got her trunk and trudged toward the door. She stopped and turned to Artimus, who took her in his arms again.

"Don't forget me," she whispered in his ear.

"There's no way that's going to happen."

Reluctantly, Artimus released her. Cecilia trailed Tonks down the corridor, walking past Jimmy without a glance. He kept his head down, his thumbs hitched in his pockets.

"Hey, Malfoy."

Cecilia stopped and looked back at Jimmy, the surprise evident in her eyes.

After a long pause, he finally said, "Take care of yourself, okay?"

Cecilia continued to stare at him, as if trying to absorb what Jimmy had just said.

She said nothing, just nodded to him. With one final glance at Artimus, she followed Tonks down the corridor and out of sight.

_She's gone._ Artimus propped himself against the wall, staring blankly at the door across from him. _She's gone. What do I do now?_

Footfalls approached. Artimus continued staring straight ahead as Jimmy came up next to him.

"I'm sorry, man. You were right all along about Cecilia. I shoulda listened to you instead of being a Slytherin-hating dumbass."

Artimus finally rotated his head toward Jimmy. "I'm sorry I hit you with the chair at the dance."

"Yeah, well, you really weren't yourself that night. I don't think any of us were."

Artimus gave him a barely perceptible nod. Was that entirely true?

"We cool?" Jimmy held out his fist.

"Yeah. We're cool."

Even as they tapped fists, doubts lingered in Artimus' mind whether or not everything was cool between them.

"Hey, I'll catch you later, bro." Jimmy started to walk away.

"Where are you going?"

Jimmy looked over his shoulder. "There's something else I gotta make right."

**XXXXX**

O'Bannon sat against a tree, gazing down the dirt path leading to the Quidditch pitch. Any minute now . . .

A small knot of students appeared and headed toward him. O'Bannon grimaced and rose, screwing up his eyes to find one person in particular.

There! Wedged between two other girls from the Blazenrowe Quidditch team was Rana Rollingsworth.

O'Bannon leaned against the tree and watched them draw nearer. Rana slowed her pace when she noticed him.

"Hey, Rana. You got a sec?"

Her lips tightened. The two girls with her aimed harsh stares at him.

"Yeah. Sure."

It wasn't the most enthusiastic response, but O'Bannon would take it.

Rana separated from the group. All of her teammates watched her walk off with him, including Gregory Lancemore. O'Bannon avoided his gaze.

"You, um, feeling okay?" he asked when they were out of earshot of the team.

"Yeah. I'm fine." Her voice didn't hold any of the cheeriness he'd grown used to.

Rana continued, "Things are still kind of rocky between me and Beatrice. How about you?"

"I'm good. Things are cool between me and Art."

Rana looked down, studying the green-brown grass around her feet. "I still can't believe that British girl was responsible for all this."

"Yeah, I know." O'Bannon drew a breath. _Enough tapdancing._ "Look, Rana. I am so sorry about what happened at the dance. I mean, I wasn't in my right mind. None of us were. I know it was a special night for both of us and thanks to that Projection Potion everything got messed up."

"Apology accepted."

A smile spread across O'Bannon's face. "Good. Thanks. Say, now that we're all sane again, why don't we sit together at dinner tonight, then . . . I don't know. Find some place to talk. Just the two of us."

"Jimmy. I . . ." Rana's pretty face sagged. "Do you remember what Headmistress Esmeralda said about the Projection Potion?"

"Yeah. Because Cecilia Malfoy was jealous and resentful about her family, those emotions got magnified in us."

"That's the key word. They _magnified_ those emotions, they didn't _create _them."

"Okay?" O'Bannon wondered where she was going with this.

"Which means you were already jealous of Gregory before this potion really took effect."

O'Bannon swallowed. He shifted his weight from side-to-side. "Okay. Maybe I was a kinda jealous whenever I saw him around you. I just really liked you, and he's Salem's ladies man, and I got worried he was gonna steal you away . . ."

"Jimmy. When you use a word like 'steal' you make me sound like a possession."

"I'm sorry, Rana. Look, if it wasn't for that Projection Potion I never would've gone postal at the dance."

"But you still would've been jealous of Gregory spending time with me to work on our project. And . . . I can't help but wonder if you'd feel the same way when you see me hugging my male teammates after we win, or if I work with another guy on a school project, or if you just see me walking to class talking to another guy. Will you have another outburst like the one you had at the Halloween Dance, without some potion to blame it on?"

Dread consumed O'Bannon's soul. His heart pounded furiously. "Rana, no. I'm not like that."

"I want to believe you, Jimmy. I really do. But . . . I already had one relationship end badly. And all these doubts I have with you . . ." Rana's lower lip trembled. The sun glinted off the tears filling her eyes. "I'm sorry, Jimmy. Maybe we can still be friends, but I . . . I'm sorry."

Rana bolted past him.

"Rana, please!"

She didn't turn around. Her body convulsed with a sob as she quickened her pace back to Blazenrowe Hall.

O'Bannon watched her fade into the distance. He thought back to the fight in Ovenderburg, how much that shard of ice stuck in his leg had hurt.

It was nothing compared to the pain he felt now.

**XXXXX**

O'Bannon didn't go to dinner. He simply sat by the pond his hockey team used for practice, staring at its still surface. He didn't feel the breeze blowing against him, or the air the turned colder as night fell.

All he felt was heartache.

Hours later, when he'd finally convinced himself it wasn't a bad dream, that things were really over between him and Rana, he picked himself up and trudged back to his dorm.

Jared, Rosa and Artimus were in his room when he walked in. All three looked at him with expressions of concern.

"Hey, we didn't see you at dinner," said Jared. "Everything okay?"

O'Bannon didn't answer. He just plopped down on the edge of his bed, torturing himself with memories of kissing Rana . . . and realizing he'd never do it again.

Rosa opened her mouth hesitantly. "Did . . . did you talk to Rana?"

O'Bannon nodded. Somehow, he managed to relate what had happened without turning into a blubbering mass.

"Jimmy, I'm so sorry." Rosa walked across the room, sat next to him and put an arm around his shoulder.

"I thought she'd understand, you know." O'Bannon spoke in a distant voice. "I mean, it was the potion."

"Not entirely."

O'Bannon looked over to Artimus, who sat on his bed nervously pressing his fingers together.

"What do you mean, man?" Jared fixed him with a quizzical stare.

"Um, well . . . it's just . . ." Artimus closed his eyes, took a deep breath and held it for a few seconds. When he released it, he said. "Think about what happened. The potion didn't make people attack just anyone. Isaac Pinder resented the fact you were more impressed with Jermone Dionne, and he wound up jealous with Dionne because he was a better hockey player than him. Marcel Dubuque was jealous of you because you were team captain and he wasn't. And he resented the fact Dante Marshall wouldn't take his side against you. Ursa Oberlin was jealous of Cindy Walker because getting good grades came easier to Cindy than her. And . . . and . . ."

Artimus cast his eyes to the floor. No one spoke as the silence dragged on.

Finally, he looked up. "I kind of resent being treated like some sort of tag-along by you guys."

"What do you mean?" Rosa asked.

"There are just times . . . like if a bunch of us are sitting in the parlor, or we go to some party or dance or something, you'll go off and talk to other people and I'm left by myself. I mean, you're the big hockey stars for Blazenrowe. Everyone wants to talk to you guys. Who the hell am I? I'm the guy who just hangs on to all your shadows. I'm the guy who . . . who feels more like your charity case than your friend."

"What the hell are you talking about, man?" Jared shook his head. "We're your buds."

"Maybe he has a point."

O'Bannon felt every eye in the room on him.

"When you told me about Cecilia's situation with Draco and his parents," he looked to Artimus, "I just dismissed it. Told you you didn't know what you were talking about. And looking back on the last six, seven years, that's not the first time I've acted that way toward you."

He heard a heavy sigh from Rosa. "Yeah. I guess we're all guilty of that."

"I do have good ideas, you know," Artimus blurted.

"Art, we've never said you were stupid." Rosa turned to him.

"But sometimes you make me feel that way."

Rosa left O'Bannon's side and sat next to Artimus, putting a hand on his shoulder. Artimus appeared like he wanted to ignore it.

"Art, if I, if any of us, ever made you feel that way, we are so sorry."

"So what about the rest of us?"

O'Bannon looked over at Jared. It was a rare moment when he sounded so serious.

"I mean, if Artimus has these feelings, what about the rest of us? Rosa, are you jealous for some reason of me? Of Jimmy? Is there something you can't stand about us?"

Rosa removed her hand from Artimus' shoulder and intertwined her fingers in her lap. O'Bannon's shoulders knotted. He had a bad feeling the next few minutes would be filled with things none of them wanted to hear.

"Sometimes, Jared . . ." Rosa paused, drawing a breath. "Sometimes I don't think you take a lot of things as seriously as you should. And Jimmy. There are times I think you have way too big a chip on your shoulder about the whole Muggle-born/pureblood thing."

O'Bannon opened his mouth, but held his tongue. Now wasn't the time for arguing.

"I've been your friend since we first got to Salem. And sometimes when you go on a tangent about Muggle-borns and purebloods, it's like your lumping all us purebloods into the same category."

_Yeah. Just like I lumped all Slytherins into the same category._

_Until Tonks and Cecilia Malfoy came on the scene._

"In all the time you've known me," Rosa continued. "When have you ever known me to say anything disparaging about Muggle-borns? When have I ever looked down my nose at you because of your blood status? How many times have I come to your defense, or any other Muggle-born here, when assholes like Merak Mather pull their pureblood superiority crap?"

O'Bannon wanted to crawl under his bed and not come out. Rosa was right.

_And she's not the only pureblood who doesn't give a crap about blood status._

Fred and George and the rest of the Weasley family were perfect examples of that.

"Well, I guess if we're confessing . . ." Jared eyed O'Bannon. "There are times, Jimmy, when it seems you get real resentful if people don't automatically go along with whatever you say. Look how pissed you got when hardly anyone at this school believed you about You-Know-Who coming back. And our hockey game against Ardenturo? It sounded like you thought no one on the ice respected your authority. All right, maybe that's true of dipsticks like Dubuque. But me and Rosa and Dante Marshall and a lot of other people did want to win that game, and did follow your orders. If you wanted to rip players, rip the ones who played selfishly, like Dubuque and Claude Tribbett. Not on people like me and Rosa who did everything we could to win that game."

O'Bannon sighed, his gaze falling to the floor. "Am I really such a prick?"

"Jimmy, you're not a prick," Rosa said soothingly. "You just have some . . . faults. Even the best of people have them."

"So what about us?" Jared turned his palms to the ceiling. "What about our flaws?"

O'Bannon forced himself to sit up straighter. He took a slow breath before addressing Jared. "Well, I think Rosa's right. I think there are times when you don't take a lot of important stuff seriously."

Jared's head bobbed from side-to-side. "Fair enough. You're not the first person to tell me that."

O'Bannon then turned to Rosa. "And Rosa. There are times when you really come on strong with that surrogate mother personality of yours, and it drives me nuts."

Jared choked on a laugh. "I'll go along with that."

"Well excuse me for giving a damn about all of you."

No one spoke after that. Silence hung heavy in the room as everyone contemplated these revelations.

"So what do we do now?" Artimus asked in a hushed voice.

"What do you mean?" Jared shot him a quizzical look.

"With all this stuff out in the open, knowing how we all really feel about one another. What are we supposed to do?"

O'Bannon tried to search for an answer. But his brain drowned in all these confessions . . . and the fact Rana had dumped him.

"We go on." Rosa got to her feet and strode to the middle of the room.

"Just like that?" Artimus watched her. "What, were supposed to forget about everything that was said here?"

"No, I'm not saying we forget it. But we can deal with it. We've all been friends since First Year. Hell, Jimmy, Art, you're family to me, just as much as Jared is. And when problems come up in a family, we resolve them. We forgive one another and move on. What happened here with Serinta and the Projection Potion, it's all part of You-Know-Who's strategy. Spread discontent. Get friends to turn on one another. Well I'll be damned if that s.o.b. is going to make me turn on three of the dearest people in my life. We're family, and we have to stick together, especially in times like these. And there's not a potion, or a spell, or some scumbucket dark wizard who's going to break us apart."

Rosa surveyed the three of them, apparently satisfied with her speech.

"You're not gonna make us do a group hug, are you?"

Rosa's head snapped toward O'Bannon. Her eyes flared. O'Bannon swallowed. He believed everything his friend had just said. Maybe he should have bit his tongue. Hell, he'd just said Jared sometimes didn't take important stuff seriously. And what did he do? Make a smart ass comment after Rosa said something everyone needed to hear.

O'Bannon's head shrank into his shoulders, awaiting Rosa's fury.

Instead she laughed.

And it spread. Jared clutched his stomach and fell on his side. Artimus convulsed as his laughter grew louder.

Finally it reached O'Bannon. He flung himself on his back, his laughs joining the others that filled the room.

He lifted his head, his eyes sweeping the room, taking in Rosa, Jared and Artimus, all still in hysterics.

Deep down, Jimmy O'Bannon knew no matter what laid ahead, no matter how bad things got, the four of them would get through it.

Together.

- THE END –

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: **_What's next for Jimmy and his friends? Find out in "Dark Horizon," as Jimmy reunites with his friends from Hogwarts for an exciting adventure. "Dark Horizon" is currently posted on fanfiction-dot-net._


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